


Hush: Blurred Alliances

by HanFai



Series: Hush: Blurred Alliances [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Arguments, Character tension, Crime Fighting, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Fights, Gen, Impersonation, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Multi, Orginal characters: Susan Garfield and Estella Lynn, Original character: Gin, Peyton Riley the 2nd ventriloquist, Roy Harper chameo, Secrets, Spying, Undercover Detective, discharged from jail, jail sentenced, non-explicit love scenes, parole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6279121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanFai/pseuds/HanFai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hush: Blurred Alliances is the sequel to Hush: The Overtaking. Copy and paste the link in your web browser to read Hush: The Overtaking here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5018584/chapters/11533309</p><p>With Tommy Elliot's sudden discharge after six months in jail, he comes home to Elliot Estate and tries to go back to where he left off as Bruce Wayne... kind of.<br/>Is Susan Garfield not exactly who she appears to be this entire time?<br/>Can Tommy fool enough people with his Bruce Wayne appearance in order to carry out his schemes?<br/>And will Red Hood have to step in for his old man to take Tommy down before he hurts anyone else?<br/>(Read below for a disclaimer)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prison

**Author's Note:**

> I never planned this, but I'm back with another one! I finished "Hush: The Overtaking" back in October. Now, almost six months later, I've decided to write a sequel to the series. I give you "Hush: Blurred Alliances".  
> ~~DISCLAIMER:~~ I realize this story might have its "soap opera" and "sitcom" moments. But bare with me, it's not meant to offend, it's meant to be interesting and funny all at the same time. :-)  
> Tommy Elliot can be very sardonic and insensitive to other people's feelings. It's not meant to be dramatic/serious, but more meant to just get a good laugh (hopefully).~~  
> P.s. Since this is a fanfic, I may have changed a couple things about the characters to better suit my story. For instance, in my story, Tommy has a fear of alcohol rather than indulging in it once in a while as with other versions of the character.

  

   

Tommy Elliot sat on the small bed, placed in the back of his jail cell. He looked up with his Bruce Wayne transformed face.

One of the guards stood at his cells' door with a big ring of keys. “Alright, Tommy. Dinner time.” The guard unlocked his cell and opened the door for him. Then he went on to the prisoner next door and did the same.

                                                                                                          ~:~

   “Oh, goody. The same old muck for dinner from last nights scraps.”

The cafeteria lady pursed her lips and gave him a huge glop onto his plate and smiled sarcastically.

Tommy glanced at her and rolled his eyes as he moved along the line. He made his way quietly to the end of one of the long tables and sat down.

   He felt his stomach growl fiercely. He grabbed his spoon, took a generous spoonful of the mush from his plate and put it in his mouth. He gulped it down as fast as he could and then chased it down with a huge swallow of water. “Lovely.” He shuddered.

“How yuh like the tasty pureed meat?” A dark complected guy sat down across from him.

Tommy didn't bother to raise his head. He rolled up his eyes to look at the man. “Do I really need to answer that?”

The guy chuckled. “I've seen yuh around, but we've neva been propuhly introduced. I'm Gin. That's Gin as in 'g-i-n'.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Too bad you can't get your booze in the hole.”

Gin laughed. “No, I be serious! My ma named all o' her kids spirit names. I have a li'tle sis named Brandy, an' an older brotha named Vino.”

“That's Italian for 'wine'.”

“Yeah, see... cleva my ma is.” Gin frowned slightly. “You neva told me what yer name was.”

“Bruce Wayne.”

Gin squinted his eyes. “Really? I thought I recognized yuh from somewhere.” 

“Yes, I get around.”

“If you don't mind me askin', what could a billionaire playboy like yuh have done to get yuh sentenced to jail?”

Tommy opened his mouth and took a breath, “I-”

Gin held his hand out. “Wait, don't tell me. Yuh got caught wid too many girls at a time? Polygamy datin'? Or was it that yuh done got caught with a prostitute or somethin'?”

Tommy looked down at the table and chuckled. He thought to himself, 'as much as I'd like everyone to think that's why Bruce Wayne is imprisoned, I'll say otherwise.' “No.” Tommy looked up at Gin. “I'm here because...” he paused and shook his head. “I had a plan and it didn't quite go...” he shrugged, “as planned.”

“I get it, I get it. You're one of those 'keep it to yerself' kind of guys. That be understandable...” Gin grinned and widened his eyes. “Did yuh kill someone or somethin'?”

Tommy smirked and raised his eyebrows for an instant.

Gin leaned back in his chair with a look of realization. “I see.”

“It was a long time ago. Well, a long time ago if you don't include the once and a while 'double-crossers' who get in the way of my carefully laid out plans. My motto is 'happiness depends upon ourselves.' That... and 'if you try to distort my pictured vision, I'll take you 'out' of the picture.”

Gin pouted his lips and nodded. “Sounds reasonable.” He smiled and nudged Tommy's shoulder, obviously trying to get him to loosen up.

Tommy looked at his shoulder where he had been touched and didn't look too pleased.

“You know, that be strange that you done be Bruce Wayne. Could've swore I saw Bruce on the news just yesterday.” Gin took a bite of his pureed meat, nonchalantly. 

“Did you? You can't trust anything you see on that contraption known as a TV.”

“Yeah, but my eyes don't deceive. Seein' 'is' believin', Bruce.”

“Spare me the cliches, Gin.”

“ 'Cliches' ? But I be pretty sure your motto 'happiness depends on ourselves' done be a cliché too, man.”

“It's a quote, actually... from Aristotle.”

“Ari- what now?”

“It's... no one.”

“Man,” Gin put his hands in the air. “I didn't mean ter offend yuh. I don't wanna get on yer bad side.”

“You're not... and I'm not offended. I just...” Tommy sighed. “I'm sick of being imprisoned here. It's been six months since I've been here and it's been the worse six months of my life.”

“I'm sorry, man. We all feel yuh. No one here really wants t' be here. It ain't even close to a nice place t' be. I mean... sure dey feed us, let us watch TV, give us some fresh air and a place to stretch our legs outside. But yuh know, it's not all dat bad eithe'. Hey, at least we don't have t' work like yer average citizen. We have it pretty damn easy.”

Tommy looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, I didn't go to school for more than ten years to become a surgeon, only to be placed in a jail cell, wasting time and making 'no' money.”

“Yer a surgeon? I thought yuh were a philanthropist and CEO of Wayne enterprises. Speaking of which, I be surprised yuh can't done bail yerself out of jail, being a multi-billionaire and all.”

“Sometimes it's not so simple.”

~:~  
  
Later on that night. “Mr. Elliot, you are discharged tomorrow.”

“Seriously?” He thought for a moment, then said to himself quietly, “Maybe there really is a God.” He looked at the guard. “Is this a trick?”

The guy laughed, “Nope. Don't ask me how this shit works. All I know is you're free to go tomorrow mornin'.”

Tommy's face turned into an expression he hadn't had in six months... a smile.

  
 


	2. "Where's Bruce Wayne?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After arriving back at Elliot Estate, Tommy goes looking for Bruce.

Tommy unlocked the Elliot manor front door with his key. It was the first time that he had been home in six months.

He stepped inside the mansion and shut the door, locking it behind him. He went into the living room and traced a

finger along the surface of the coffee table. He rubbed the dust off his fingers while he thought to himself,

' _I guess I'm going to have to hire a maid_.'

 

He went to the refrigerator and opened it, only to see that it was completely empty. ' _I guess I'll have to go shopping as well._

_But first and foremost, I'm taking a hot shower to wash away the stench from the prison. And not to mention, getting rid of_

_this disgusting excuse for clothing.'_

After he took a shower and got dressed, he went into his personal library to find a book to read.

He picked one up and dusted off its cover. The book he chose was about the many mysterious surgical phenomenons

that science couldn't explain.

Tommy sat in his living room and read two chapters of the book. It was complete quietness, besides

the subtle tick of the grandfather clock, until someone knocked on the front door. He looked at the clock.

It was one o'clock in the afternoon. He went to the door, half expecting it to be the police, saying that

they made a mistake on discharging him. He took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole. He

immediately recognized it to be Susan Garfield. He frowned to himself, wondering what she was doing

here. He opened the door. “Yes?”

She couldn't help herself from staring at him. His dark hair slicked and parted on the side. His face

looked fresh and clean as if he had just gotten out of the shower. He didn't at all look like he had just

been released from prison earlier that day. He looked just how she remembered Bruce Wayne looking,

if not a tad thinner; she assumed from the prison food.

“Tommy Elliot?” She questioned.

He raised his eyebrows, “Not very many people call me that anymore, but yes, I suppose that's

sometimes my name.” He paused, “Susan Garfield... would you like to come in?” He backed away from the door.

“Sure.” She stepped inside and looked around the manor. “I forgot how big this place was.”

“I almost did too.” He shut the door behind her and headed to the living room, assuming she'll follow.

“Would you like a seat?” He motioned toward the couch.

She shook her head. “No, I'm fine for now.”

“I assume you heard the news?” He took a seat on the couch.

“That they discharged you from prison? Yes, as a matter of fact. That's why I'm here... obviously. I

still can't really believe that they let ' _you_ ', of all people, out of prison! I had to come over to see for myself.”

“God bless the lovely court systems.” He stretched out an arm across the back of the couch and rested

an ankle on his knee. “Gotta love Gotham.”

“It's certainly the place to live for criminals.” Susan said plainly.

“Like any person... I, of course, wanted out so that I could live my life and do something with it.” He

rested his head on the back of the couch. “And It's been a long time since I've done...” he puffed a

whiff of air, “many things.” He lowered his eyelids and stared at her.

Susan raised an eyebrow. She quickly looked away from him as she easily deciphered what he meant

by his body language. “Oh, you poor thing.” She scoffed sarcastically and then looked back at him.

“You mean you had to abstain yourself for six months? Unless you decided to swing your door towards

the masculine side, since that's all that was available to you.”

Tommy held his mouth open in shock and smiled. “Wow. I see _'you've'_ changed while I was away.”

He stood up from the couch.

She smirked as she kept her eyes fixed on him. “Thank you.”

 He walked up to her. “Susan, I know you hate me and what I've done, but-”

“But what? Don't insult you?”

“No. I was going to say,” he sighed and looked at her, “can we at least be friends?”

“ ' _Friends_ '... with a man who threatened to _'kill'_ me just six months ago? Or did you think I'd forgotten?”

He glanced down, put his hands in his pockets and then looked back up. “I was never really going to

kill you, Susan.”

“Yeah, uh huh. You were just flinging a gun around at me for kicks, right?”

“That's your favorite subject, isn't it?” He bit his bottom lip and lowered his voice, “You wanna know what mine is?”

She frowned. “ _'Tut'._ I got to go, Tommy.” She turned around and headed for the door.

“Wait.” He grabbed her elbow, and turned her around to face him. “Susan, I'm sorry for what I did. I

just want you to know that I swear to God I'll never do that again to you.”

She looked in his eyes intently to look for any glimmer of truthfulness. She frowned as she couldn't

read him clearly. “I'll hold you to that. Perhaps your time in prison ' _did'_ do you some good after all.”

He bit his bottom lip, anxiously.

She turned around to leave.

“Susan, do you want to stay for a while? My refrigerator's empty, but I can run down to the store and

get you anything you want.”

She shook her head. “You must want company really badly... I bet it's lonely living in this huge house

with nothing but your own demons.”

He stared blankly at her. “Being constantly surrounded by other inmates...” He glanced around the

huge mansion. “I haven't been alone in a long time.”

She raised her blonde eyebrows. “I guess you'll have to get used to it then.” With that, she opened the door and went out.

 

~:~

 

The next day at a payphone booth in Gotham.

“For the last time, Roy... I told you we're not friends anymore.”

“But, Jason, we used to be partners in crime, literally.”

“Yeah. And I learned that anything worth doing, is best done alone if you're going to do it well.”

Roy frowned over the line. “I don't think that's exactly how that saying goes.”

“Whatever.” Jason rolled his eyes in aggravation. “If it makes sense to me, that's all that matters.”

“Jason, please reconsider. I can help you.”

“Damn it, Roy! Go... bug Kori or someone. And leave me alone.”

“But, Ja-”

Before Roy could say anymore, the hood quickly hung up the payphone handset. He opened up the

door and glanced around at the traffic in the street nearby. Along with pedestrians moving to and fro.

He put up his red hoodie over his head and jaywalked as he crossed the street. A couple cars slammed

on their brakes, honking their horns. “Get out of the street, you idiot!”

“Oh, shut up.” Red hood muttered under his breath. He kept walking and eventually found himself in

a dark alleyway. He looked at an old wooden sign. “Heh. 'Crime alley'... figures that I'd find myself back here.

What is it they say? 'Everything comes full circle in life'?”

He glanced around at a couple of knocked over metal garbage cans, spilling out trash. A couple rats hurried across

his pathway. He fumbled in his hoodie's pocket for a piece of stale bread, wrapped in a napkin, left over from

lunch. He knelt down, breaking off a chunk and scattering crumbles across the pavement.

 He saw a rat come up, grab a piece in its mouth and then scurry away. “Just like when I was a kid.”

Suddenly, Jason heard a familiar voice come from behind him. “Awe. Look at the street rat feeding his 'pet' rat.”

The hood quickly turned around. “Bruce?”

Tommy chuckled. “Try again."

“Wait...” He curled his upper lip. “Tommy Elliot?”

“How'd you guess?”

“Word travels fast in the darkness of Gotham. What I didn't know is that you had escaped from jail.”

“I didn't escape.” He came closer. “They released me.”

“Oh yeah? On what grounds?”

He bit his bottom lip and shrugged. “I have a way of getting what I want.”

The young man frowned.

“So, what brings you back to Gotham? To see your old man again?”

“N-no. You must be joking... That's the most disturbing suggestion I've heard in my entire life.”

“What is? Seeing Bruce again?”

“Yes. And seeing his face makes me want to puke, especially hearing your voice coming 'out' of his face.”

“Ha. Cute.” Tommy took a step closer, putting a hand on Hood's shoulder. “We both know that you have a

sort of... 'drawing' towards Bruce.”

He frowned, shoving the man's hand off him.

“It's okay. I understand. I... that is... you and I are kind of alike in that sense.”

 

“Oh yeah? 'You' have a drawing, or whatever you want to call it. Not me. You're the one who wanted to 'be' him.”

Tommy looked away and chuckled. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Bruce? Don't know, don't care.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Now, if you 'won't' excuse me, I'll be obligated to gun you down in crime alley before anyone can

hear you scream.”

The man chuckled. “What do you take me for exactly? A little girl?”

“Aren't you?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, straitening his brown jacket. “Well. I enjoyed our little chat. Be seeing you,

Todd.”

“Doubtful.”

 

~:~

Tommy was walking down the street when he came to a quiet park. He looked around. There was a playground with a few kids playing twenty feet away and a gazebo with wooden benches.

A woman was sitting in the gazebo and said, “Please don't tell me you've come here to stalk innocent children.”

He squinted his eyes and stepped inside the gazebo.

It was Susan Garfield, sitting with a book in hand. She glanced from her novel to eye him.

He chuckled. “Is it a small world or what?”

“Or Gotham's just small.”

He took a seat and turned towards her. “Speaking of which, can you tell me where the 'prince' of Gotham is?”

She closed her book in her lap and stared at him, blankly.

 

“By 'prince', I mean Bruce Wayne.”

“I know who you're talking about. What I'm more concerned about is what you want with him.”

“What's wrong with wanting to catch up with an old friend?”

“You know as well as I do that you two aren't friends anymore.”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh my gosh.” She shook her head. “You must 'really' be obsessed with him.

He chuckled, irritatingly. “You think I still want to be Bruce Wayne? Truth be told, at first I did. But

that was before I got to know him better. What he appears on the outside to the public, is way off base

to who he really is... ' _what'_ he really is.”

“Kind of like you.”

“You're missing my point. Bruce... he's...” He paused and bit his bottom lip as if to keep himself from

saying anymore.

“Tell me, Tommy.”

“Oh God, Susan, he's insane.”

“And how's that?”

“He has a secret cave under his mansion. With a gigantic penny, a huge robotic Tyrannosaurus rex, and not to mention, a computer console that he so fondly calls, ' _batcomputer_ '.”

“If I was rich, I'd probably have my own exuberant pad too. What's so insane about that?'

“Susan, do you remember when I told you that Bruce Wayne has a big secret?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, he does and it's not exactly a sane one.”

She felt intrigued. “What are you talking about?” She leaned closer to him.

“Susan... the reason why he has that extravagant museum under Wayne manor... is because he goes into that cave to become something else.”

She frowned, “What?”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “When the lights go out in Gotham, he puts on a bat costume and beats the living shit out of criminals.”

“W-what? You mean to tell me... that he's Batman?”

“In other words, yes.”

She held her mouth open in shock. “How am I supposed to believe you? You could be making this up

for all I know.”

“You can choose to believe, or don't. But don't say I never told you.”

“It's just... I know Bruce. We've talked many times. How could he be Batman?”

He shrugged, “Well, how could _'I'_ be Bruce Wayne?”

 

 

 

 


	3. The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan Garfield visits Elliot manor again, intending to get more research for her "secret job."  
> She then is told to take her work in a slight different direction as researching becomes spying.  
> ~  
> I like to switch around the different character's perspectives, so this chapter is from Susan's POV.

'What was I thinking coming here? It's my job... remember that.' Susan lingered in the Elliot manor corridor just long enough to make it awkward. 

“You don't have to just stand there.” Tommy stood in the parlor's opening. “Would you like anything? Something to drink maybe?” 

“Oh. Um, yeah, water would be nice.” She came into the parlor.

“Alright. I'll be right back.”

She sunk down into a seat on the couch and retrieved her laptop from out of its pouch inside her large purse. She set it on the coffee 

table. “Okay. Now, if only I can get this done before my deadline tomorrow.” She muttered to herself. 

After a minute he returned with the glass of water and quietly bent behind her. His head over her shoulder, peering at the computer 

screen. “Felon receives parole, paradoxically.”

She sharply gasped, realizing he was reading her screen. She shut the top down immediately. “Uh, maybe trying to get some extra work 

done right now... isn't the best idea after all.” She craned her neck back to look at him.

He glanced down at her. “Mm.” He handed her the glass of water and went to take a seat beside her. 

“Thanks.” She quietly sipped her water, trying hard to think of what to say and feeling glad that she had something to occupy herself 

while doing so.

He turned towards her. “You know, if that sentence was about me, you can talk to me about it.”

“What?” She giggled uneasily. “You're still thinking about that? I mean, why would I be reading-... especially if it were something about 'you'?” 

“I don't know. That's what I was wondering.”

She let out a fake laugh and looked at him, pushing a strand of blond hair behind her ear.

He watched her, a smile coming to his face. “Remember when you wanted to be a detective?”

“Oh, yeah. Heh.” 

“That was sure off-the-wall, huh?”

“What? What would- why would that be... 'weird' for me to want to be a detective? That's not weird.”

“Oh, come on. It was a little weird.”

She frowned, obviously feeling insulted. “Well, I-”

“Oh. I didn't realize you-”

“No. It's fine.”

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. “Hmm. Susan.” He grabbed her arm. 

She turned to face him.

“What's... the real reason why you stopped by?” He watched her closely.

She looked away from him and shook her head. “Nothing. There's no 'real' reason.”

“Susan, look at me.” He stared at her, “I know how you feel about me.”

“What?” She immediately took up her guard. 

“I know... that you're drawn to me despite your good conscience. Maybe... you can't help yourself.”

She jerked her arm out of his grip in subdued frustration. 

“My nature... Susan, I'm a horrible person.” He chuckled. “The acts I've committed. But, you know that. I've told you. You don't have to be 

here. And yet... here you are. Something inside you is-”

“And why would I feel that way?” She cut him off.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised of her outburst. “I don't know. Are you asking 'me' that or are you asking yourself? I can't tell you why 

you feel the way you feel.”

“But you can tell me 'how' I feel?” Susan swallowed and continued to watch him closely. She tried to be bold, despite how unnerving he  
made her feel.

“I'm sorry. Am I wrong?”

She looked down and didn't answer, consciously trying to move her knees away from his.

“The way you feel...” he traced a finger down her bare arm and stared at her neck. “It's sick and twisted... isn't it?”

She gulped, feeling chills running down her spine from his obvious vibes and close proximity. A feeling of agitation came over her. “So, 

what? You think you can read my mind or something?”

“No. Of course not.” He chuckled softly, sinking back into the couch. “Life would be a hell of a lot easier if I could, but, no. Fortunately, 

I'm not one of those meta-human freaks you see running around these days.”

They both sat there silently for a moment. She wasn't sure if she was the only one who felt like the atmosphere was deeply sultry. She 

turned toward him while he met her gaze. 

“You're right.”

“About what?”

“It 'is' sick and twisted.” She laid a hand on his knee. “Despite everything that you've done... I 'do' feel a drawing towards you.” She swallowed and watched him closely. 

He lowered his eyes to look at her lips. “Are you playing me?”

“There's only one way to find out.” She closed her eyes and started leaning in towards him until her lips were pressed against his. She 

lifted a leg over him and sat on his lap. He put a hand on her back and one around her waist to balance her. He cocked his head to kiss 

her as she tangled both of her hands into his hair.

They both quickly allowed the kiss to become consuming. Suddenly a sharp sting arose on his bottom lip when she accidentally nicked 

him. She was caught off guard when he jerked his head away with a low groan. He rested his head onto the back on the couch as he stared 

at her, catching his breath. A drop of blood came trickling down his bottom lip. 

She licked her lips, staring at his mouth as she moved in again to kiss him. Placing a hand on his chest now. She sensed a slight 

resistance from him, despite coaxing a muffled moan.

“Susan?” He gripped her waist as he opened his eyes to look at her, solemnly. 

She frowned at his silence. “What is it? You try to get me going and then you try to 'stop' me... to what? Not let anything 'unseemly' happen?”

He remained silent as he continued to hold her.

She leaned forward, purring in his ear, “I thought you were a horrible person.” 

He tightened his grip. She grazed her lips down the length of his neck and nibbled gently. He sighed as he closed his eyes. Jerking his 

head onto the back of the couch. “Don't get me wrong... you're v-very attractive, but... I get the feeling that there's something... else going 

on.” He turned his head.

She frowned and lifted her head. “What are you talking about?”

“You're not who you say you are, Susan.”

“I'm not... huh?” She lifted her leg off of him, frustrated and sat back down in her seat, sighing. “Then who am I?” She pursed her lips, 

stuck her chin in the air and stared at him without blinking. “Well... can you read me now, genius?”

He finally blinked and looked away to look at her hand, still on his thigh. He picked her hand up and tossed it to the side. He stood up, 

clearing his throat. “Uh... mm... I think it's time for you to go.”

She looked directly in front of her and chuckled softly, “Alright, then. I'll be going.” She stood up and looked at him. 

He crossed his arms.

“Hmph.”

“Good day, Miss Garfield.” He said, raising his eyebrows.

She shook her head. “You do realize that this is the second time you've done this to me?”

“Done what?”

“Left me hanging... although...” she stepped closer to him and traced a finger along his collarbone. “I will say... that this time was more 

enjoyable than the last.”

“Mm.” He raised his chin, biting his bottom lip. “Well, last time you didn't... you know... sit on my lap.”

She smirked. “Oh, yeah... Hmm, in any case, thanks for being 'such' a gentleman and asking for me to leave.” She said sarcastically.

“Well... I never was a gentleman, now was I?”

“Right.” She turned around. “Good day.” She went to the door, letting herself out.  
~:~

“Well, Miss Garfield, did you find anything else out from your visit with Dr. Elliot?”

Susan sat with her hands holding her purse in her lap. “Not much, I'm afraid, Detective Kellar.”

“Well, we don't want you to waste anymore time, now do we? Maybe we should reassign an undercover detective to follow him and take 

note of his whereabouts.”

“That won't be necessary. I- I know him way better than any stranger would. I have a history with him from before he was even sent to 

jail, if you've forgotten.”

“And that, my dear, might just be the problem. You're too intimate with him. It's holding you back from doing your job properly.”

“But I thought that was the main point of all this. The reason why you hired 'me' to spy on him. Don't you think it's a lot easier for me to 

do so if I spend time getting to know him better?”

Detective Kellar sighed and looked down at his paperwork. “Alright, Detective Garfield. I'm giving you a little more time. Then, we may 

just have enough evidence against Elliot to cancel his parole and throw him back in jail.”

“Alright. Thank you, detective.” 

“Perhaps you can follow him 'without' him seeing you. See what he does and where he goes when he thinks no one's looking.”

~:~

Tommy drove into town and parked his car across the street of a few shops.

Susan pulled into the same parking lot, and saw his car nearby. She quickly got out of her car and walked to a nearby brick building and 

peeked from behind it. She saw Tommy walking across the street at that moment. She watched him, looking around, almost as if he was 

paranoid someone was watching him.

Susan squinted harder as she watched him go inside a shop. 'Going to the barber shop? I guess it's not a crime to get a haircut and a 

clean shave.'

“Susan Garfield?” Came a man's voice from behind her.

She breathed a startled gasp as she quickly turned around. “Bruce Wayne?” She questioned as she narrowed her eyes.

“Yes. It's me. And 'not' my deranged evil twin. Whom now, apparently, has made his home in Gotham again after the corrupt Gotham 

court systems let him out of jail.” Bruce shook his head with displeasure.

“Oh.” Susan breathed a sigh of relief. “I was a little scared for a second that you were actually him.”

“Alfred and I have finally come home from Europe to rebuild. After all, for us to escape our imprisonment, Alfred blew up Wayne manor, 

dissolving it dust.”

Susan looked at the ground. “Sometimes I forget that Tommy did that to you.” She looked at him, concernedly. “I'm so sorry. But, you are 

looking much better now.”

“Yes. I've managed to regain my health and weight for the most part while I was away.”

“I'm so glad.” She gave him a feeble smile. “Lots of people are still not sure if you were the one who was let out of jail on parole or if 

you're the doppelganger who took an impromptu trip to the east with his butler for six months.”

Bruce shook his head. “People 'still' think I would do all those insane acts that Tommy has done? I'm 'not' a murderer! We're nothing alike 

beyond our outside appearance.”

“I know, Bruce. I believe you. I'm about the only person who can still tell you two apart, it seems. At least up close, if I were to see either 

of you from a distance, it'd be much harder.” She sighed.

“I'm sorry to make it harder for you, now that I'm back in town. He won't be on the outside of iron bars for much longer, though. You 

have my word... I heard that Tommy's still living at the old Elliot Estate. For someone as smart and calculated, that's pretty dumb of him. 

You'd think he'd know people would get suspicious that he's plainly a chameleon convict.”

“I guess he has an attachment to the place. Even though at the same time, he loathes the bad memories he has there of his parents.”

He frowned. “Hmm. You seem to know more about him than I realized.”

“He told me... and I'm paid to know what I know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm just like you, Bruce. We happen to both enjoy the perks of being secret detectives hiding in the shadows.”

He blinked quickly. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh.” She realized she shouldn't have said that. “I-” she sighed, “Tommy- told me about what you do when the lights go out in Gotham.”

“What?” He started to feel the anger rise in him. “And you believed him?”

“It's okay. Your secret's safe with me, Bruce... I swear.”

He pursed his lips. “I don't know what exactly he told you, Susan. But you shouldn't believe a word that comes out of that manipulative 

liar's mouth!”

Susan was a little surprised of his reaction. She stared at him, her eyes widened. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. It's not your fault...” he paused. “But I am a little worried about you. How much time have you spent with that psychopath? 

You're not... falling for him, are you?”

“What? No! Why would you say that?”

“For some reason, I get the feeling.”

She looked down at the ground. “You sound just like him.”

“What?”

She ignored his question. “The truth is... Tommy has opened up to me. We've talked and... we have a very complicated relationship, 

okay?”

“A thing for the bad boys? For the insane, Susan?”

She immediately frowned. “He's not-” 

Bruce watched her, shaking his head. “You better be careful, Susan. I don't think you know who you're dealing with.”

“But it's my job, Bruce. And I do know. Tommy has opened up to me more times than I can remember. And something tells me that he's 

not one to just blabber the intimate details of his life to just anyone. I bet I even know him better than you. I know you guys were 

childhood friends, but people change. It's a fact that I happen to know him better as an adult than you do.”

Bruce shook his head. “Well, obviously you don't, Susan, or else you would know that he's a psychopath and isn't to be trusted!”

“I know what he's done, Bruce! But... I have to finish what I started. It's my job. I 'am' a detective after all. Not just a 'wanna be' like 

Tommy thinks.”


	4. Errand Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This may have a few soap-opera moments, but bare with me. It's kind of hilarious in a way.  
> ~  
> Running errands for a friend? Susan doesn't like the idea that Tommy is spending time with Bruce's old flame.

The next stop Tommy made was the liquor store, next door to the barber shop. Susan had convinced Bruce that she needed to get back 

to spying on her person of interest. So, he left her alone, hiding behind a building, waiting for Tommy to finish his purchase in the liquor 

store. She thought to herself, 'Strange. I thought Tommy abhorred liquor and its affects. Why is he buying some? Or maybe he's stealing it?'

She glanced behind at her car parked nearby. She walked to it, unlocked it and got in. Just at that moment, she happened to see Tommy 

exiting the store. He started walking across the street and was heading her way.

Susan immediately started her car and stepped on the gas. She quickly drove up to him and made a stop. She rolled down her window. 

“Hey!”

Tommy stopped, came up to her window and leaned in. “Hey. What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, you know, just going for a joyride. What about you? I See you're succumbing to alcohol now.” She nodded toward the bottle hiding 

in a paper sack, in his hand.

He glanced down, stood up straight and gazed off into the distance, rolling his eyes. “Actually this isn't for me. Not that it matters.” He 

moved both his hands behind him and clasped the bottle out of sight.

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? You have friends that send you to run errands for them?”

“Well, it 'is' for a friend. Estella Lynn.”

“Estella who...? Lynn? Wait, Tommy. Isn't that Bruce Wayne's old girlfriend?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Emphasis on the 'old'. Besides, you automatically just 'assume' that I'm trying to steal Bruce's 

girlfriend.”

She laughed softly. “I didn't say that. I just wanted to make sure that you knew that she might think that you're Bruce.”

He stared at her, blankly.

“She 'does' think you're Bruce, doesn't she? And you're letting her. Why? You can't get a girlfriend any other way after rejecting 'my' best 

intentions, not once... but, what was that? Two times?”

He chuckled as he looked around at the traffic nearby. “This really isn't the time to talk about this.” He looked at her and frowned when 

he saw her serious expression. “I didn't realize you even cared that much, Susan. 'You're' the one who's spying on me after all.”

“Wha- what? Spying on-”

He squinted his eyes. “What happened to you, Susan?” He raised his chin in the air. “You're definitely not the girl I 'used' to know.”

“I'm sorry,” she said sarcastically. “Maybe I just finally feel comfortable in my own skin and I'm now able to let my 'true' personality 

shine!” At that moment, she stepped on the gas and sped away, leaving him watching her car disappearing into the distance.

~:~

All the way home, Tommy couldn't stop thinking about what Susan said. 'I know I'm almost completely sure that she's spying on me. 

Spying on me for who? I'm not sure. It could be just for herself. In any case, how on earth am I supposed to trust anything she does now? 

Anything and everything she does could just be an actor's stage for her. Tommy pulled into the Elliot estate driveway and parked his car. 

He grabbed the brown sack and went inside the mansion. 

Inside, a dark brunette woman was sitting on the couch with a steaming mug of tea in her hand.

Tommy took off his jacket and joined her in the living room. “Your poison, Estella.” He took the bottle out of the paper bag and set it on 

the coffee table in front of her.

Estella smacked her red lips and bit her bottom lip. “More like 'pick' your poison.”

Tommy collapsed onto the couch beside her, raising an eyebrow. “ 'Pick your poison'?”

“Pick your poison.” She tried to dig the cork out of the bottle of wine with her long, painted red finger nails. “I either drink an 

intoxicating drink now and live with the future health consequences or I sit here, remain sober 'and' miserable... I can't get this to-”

Tommy watched her struggling to get the cork off. “Here. I'll get the corkscrew.” He jumped up and hurried to the kitchen. He searched 

in the utensil drawer and grabbed what he needed. He hurried back to the living room and then opened the bottle. 

Estella smiled, “Thank you, Bruce. You're so helpful.”

He smiled. “I try.” He filled her glass goblet and then handed it to her.

She quickly took, not a sip, but a gulp of the red wine and then sighed a satisfied sigh. 

He laid his head back on the couch and watched her.

“Oh, Bruce. I wish that you'd drink some of this stuff sometime. I hate to have you always just watching me and never having a 'delicious' 

sip of your own!”

“It's tempting, but... I just... like to be in control.”

She bit her bottom lip, worriedly. “Am I out of control when I drink? Which is pretty much everyday.” She giggled and took another sip.

“No. You're fine, Estella.” He reached to smooth a brown curl from her face, and then leaned back again. “I guess... I don't quite trust 

myself with it. You know how it is.” 

She gave him a weary smile. “Oh, Bruce. I remember the good old days when you didn't mind drinking a little. Not just a little, actually,” 

she giggled. “I seem to recall a couple episodes of unmistakable deep inebriation at a couple wild parties.”

He thought to himself, 'oh, yes. Bruce the drunken playboy. How could I forget?' “Well,” he said, “rambunctious days or not, let's just say 

that I...” he leaned in, brushing her long, curly hair off her shoulders, “learned my much needed lesson.” He placed a hand on her slender 

shoulder, cocked his head and started mouthing her neck.

She tried to subdue a high pitched giggle. “Oh, Bruce.” She took another sip of her wine.

“Enough,” he mumbled into her skin as he grabbed her goblet and set it down on the coffee table.

~:~

The next morning, Susan got in her car and drove to Elliot estate. 'I don't know exactly what I'm planning, but, I'm not going to allow 

this innocent woman, Estella Lynn, to be deceived by this imposter one more day!' She saw a strange car parked in the driveway of the 

manor. 'That must be her car. Seems weird that she would be here at this time in the morning. Unless,' she frowned at the thought, 'unless 

she stayed the night... On the bright side, I'll be able to talk to both of them. Good.' 

Susan started for the front door. When she arrived, she knocked and rang the doorbell loudly. She waited a couple minutes with no avail. 

“Hmph.” She left the door and went out onto the lawn. She looked up to see if any windows were open or if any lights were on. She saw a 

bedroom light on. “Hmm.” 

'I'll try the door one more time.' She went to the door and repeated the process. 

This time, Estella Lynn opened the door. The beautiful woman looked like she had just gotten up. She was wearing jeans and a wrinkled 

buttoned, striped shirt. It looked like it had just been hurriedly thrown on as Susan noticed a couple buttons weren't buttoned in the 

middle. “Yes? May I help you?” She asked.

“Yes. Are you Estella Lynn?”

“Why, yes, yes I am.” The woman tried to smove her bedhead, unruly curls out of her face. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, hi, I'm Susan Garfield. I was hoping to get to talk to both you and To-... um... Bruce.”

“Oh, I see. Come in.” Estella stepped aside and allowed Susan to enter. “Here, we can have a seat in the parlor, also known as the living 

room, you see.” She giggled.

“Oh, okay.” Susan put on a smile. 'This girl does have a sweet spirit about her. Poor thing. She must be so naïve... like I was.' 

The women took a seat on the couch together. 

Estella smiled, “Let me make sure Bruce knows that you're here.” She got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. 

After a moment, Estella came back into the room, carrying a tea tray with three mugs, along with some cream and sugar. “If you'd like, 

we could have our coffee at the breakfast table?”

“Oh, sure.” Susan followed Estella into the breakfast room and sat down at the table. “So, is Bruce coming along, also?”

“Yes, he's bringing the pot of coffee as we speak.”

Tommy appeared in the doorway at that moment. He went to the table, setting the carafe on the table and onto an electric heater. He sat 

down at the head of the table, in between the women. He acknowledged Susan immediately with a mellowed tone. “Good morning, Miss  
Garfield.”

Susan took a sip of her coffee that she had just poured and nodded, “Good morning, 'Bruce'.”

While reaching for a mug, he looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“So, Estella,” Susan began, “am I to understand that you're Bruce's girlfriend?”

Tommy immediately frowned at her.

“Well,” Estella looked at him,“yes, I'd say that I am.”

His face shifted as he glanced at Estella with a small smile.

“I see.” Susan glanced at him and raised her blonde eyebrows. 'Two-timing much, Elliot?'

Estella broke through Susan's thoughts. “You see, Bruce and I dated about a year ago, and we promised to get back together if the time 

was ever right again. And so now, here we are.” She let go of her coffee mug and reached for his hand, resting on the table. She smiled 

contently at him.

He gave her hand a squeeze and a halfhearted smile.

“How convenient.” Susan grabbed her mug to take a sip of her coffee. “This is good coffee. I remember you, Bruce, making me coffee one 

other time at your house, a while back.”

“Oh?” Estella smiled. “Did you two used to date or something?”

Tommy chuckled. “No.” He took his mug to his mouth.

Susan raised her eyebrows at him. “ 'No'? You mean to tell me that I meant nothing to you?”

He almost choked on his coffee. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were ever together.” He pursed his lips and stared at her, seriously. 

“Oh, sorry. I guess we're just strictly what you call, 'friends with benefits'.” She laughed softly.

Estella frowned. “What? What is she talking about, Bruce?”

He patted her hand, “Don't listen to her.” He turned toward Susan, “I don't know what you're implying, Miss Garfield.” His eyes widened.

“Did you forget what happened on your couch just a few nights ago?”

He held his mouth open and stared at her in disbelief.

“I'm 'very' attractive... remember?”

He chuckled nervously and shook his head. “Heh. Can we talk alone for a moment, Susan?”

“Of course.” She stood up from her chair, proudly. “Excuse us, Estella.”

Estella sat there, looking flustered.

Tommy grabbed Susan's arm with a low groan. He led her out of the room and into the kitchen. He watched the swinging door behind 

them close. Squeezing her arm tightly, he spoke through his teeth, “What the hell is this, Susan? Why are you 'doing' this?”

She scowled at him and yanked her arm away. “Let go of me. I'm just telling her the truth...” she leaned in to hush his name, “Tommy.”

“So, what? You're here to expose me? You were planning on telling Estella my real name, weren't you?”

“Yes. Is that so bad? She could get hurt. If you cared about her like you pretend, you wouldn't be letting her think that you're Bruce 

Wayne.”

He backed away from her, leaned against the stove and let out a frustrated sigh. “Why do you care what I do? It's my life. I can live it 

anyway I want.”

“You're a criminal. Living your life the way you want is what gets innocent people hurt... not to mention, some even killed.”

He pursed his lips tightly in frustration. “You actually think I'm going to...” he glanced around the kitchen, then whispered, “ 'kill' Estella? 

If you think that, you don't know me at all.”

“I know what you're capable of.”

“Despite what you think, I'm not just some cold killer. Even 'I' happen to have morals.”

“Sure. And where were your morals when you threatened to kill me that one time?”

He chuckled quietly. “Oh, God. You're still going on about that?”

“Still going on about it? My life being threatened is a pretty serious offense. Which is one of the reasons why you were in jail in the first 

place.”

“I see.” A look of realization came over him. “So, you were the one who went to the police after all, then? Not Bruce, like I had first 

thought?”

“No, I didn't. Did you think I turned you in?”

“The thought did cross my mind.” He looked at her, questioningly. “Especially now. I honestly can't trust anything you say. God knows if 

you're even telling me the truth now.” He paused. “I was sooooo right not to trust you! Look at you. Come into my house with one 

agenda... to exploit me and ruin my life!”

“Well, I can't exactly trust you either... Tommy.”

“Don't call me that when she can hear.”

She looked down and felt a wave of guilt come over her for saying what she did to Estella, no matter how true it was. “I'm sorry.” She 

stepped closer to him and watched him closely for any shift of emotion.

He frowned.

“I made a mistake coming here and saying... what I said.” She placed a hand on his right shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

He reached to hold onto her hand as he swallowed. After a moment, he let go and edged his way past her.

She sighed as she stood alone in the kitchen.

After a couple minutes in the kitchen alone, pondering, Susan had the courage to make her way back to the breakfast room. It was 

vacant. She then went into the living room and found them sitting on the couch, talking in hushed tones.

“I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Tommy acknowledged her presence by glancing up, but then immediately looked down.

“What... did Bruce tell you?” Susan wondered.

Estella tried to put on a smile. “He told me that it was all a dreadful misunderstanding. No hard feelings, Susan. You can still stay for 

more coffee or tea or... uh, something.”

“Oh, that's very kind of you, but...” She looked at Tommy. “I'm not sure if I'm exactly welcomed.”

He looked up at her. “No, it's fine. You can stay if you want, Susan.”

Susan looked down at her tiny silver watch on her wrist. “No, I better be going. I have work to do today.”

“Alright, then.” Estella smiled sweetly. “Thank you for stopping by.” 

Susan started for the front door. Tommy rose from his seat and followed behind her. She was about to put her hand on the doorknob 

when he grabbed her elbow, turning her around to face him.

He spoke quietly, “thanks for not saying anything... else, Susan.” 

She looked down and nodded.

“Friends again?” He watched her, waiting for any assurance.

She halfheartedly smiled, “friends.”


	5. Any Creep In This Damned World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys will like this one. Red Hood comes back to face Tommy, but not in anyway he's done in the past. ;-) And is it just me, or is the Hush and Jason dynamic like the best? I think it's hilarious.  
> ~  
> Tommy comes face to face with Bruce for the first time since he's been out of jail.  
> Bruce calls for a helping hand from the Red Hood. Are they allies? Can the Red Hood be trusted not to kill his person of interest?

Bruce stood on the outskirts of the property, watching the workers finish up, hammering the last few nails into the roof of the new 

mansion.

“Looking good, Bruce.” Came Tommy's voice.

Bruce turned to eye him with a growl. “The house or me?”

Tommy glanced up at the house. “Both. But more importantly... you.” He smirked. “You almost have the same resemblance of me now. 

Has anyone ever told you that we look alike?” He came up closer to check him out. “I see that you've gained your weight back for the most 

part.” He chuckled, “I bet those last ten pounds were a killer.”

Bruce stared at him angrily. “You have some nerve, Tommy. Coming into my new place after you were the very reason Alfred and I had 

to burn our old house down in order to fool you and make our escape.”

Tommy chuckled, “Oh, yes, the great adventures of Bruce Wayne and his butler. Sounds like a book series, doesn't it?”

He clenched his fists on his side.

“By the way, how did the insurance company take it when they found out that your butler blew up your mansion? Did they believe it was 

an accident? Did you get it back in full?”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“ 'Tommy?' Who says my name is Tommy? What if I'm Bruce Wayne after all?”

Bruce shook his head, “What do you think I am... stupid? I know who you are! And who 'I' am.”

“Do you? Because everyone else thinks that 'I'm' Bruce Wayne. So, that kind of makes things a little tricky for you. Doesn't it?” 

“I swear to God, Tommy, if you try to come into my life and hurt anyone I care about again, I'll-”

“Anyone you care about? I'm sorry, but that's impossible. Bruce, you care about everyone in this damn city. How the hell is that fair?”

Bruce started trembling with anger.

He stuck his chin in the air, “Control yourself, Bruce. I might start thinking you're about to kill me.” 

~:~

“I have a problem that I'm going to need your help with.” said Bruce on the phone in his empty kitchen, (in the newly built Wayne manor.)

“Of course you do, Bruce.” said the Red hood over the line. “Why is it the only time I hear from you, is when you want something from me?”

“It's not like that. This... this is really important.”

“Of course it is.”

“It's the most important thing I'll ever ask of you. Dick is busy in Bludhaven, and I figured that you could-”

“What makes you think that 'I'm' not busy, Bruce? Despite whatever delusional things you might think, I happen to have a life too.”

“I know, but... I don't know if you've noticed, but Batman hasn't been in Gotham for almost a year now.”

“Yeah, I noticed. But figured maybe you were just taking a little break, or maybe crime finally went down, and Gotham no longer needed 

you. But, nah, that'd be impossible with your methods of dealing with scum.” He sighed a frustrated sigh. “So, more to the point. Who is it 

you want me to kill?”

“What? No, Jason! I didn't say to kill him. Just- I need your help to get him back in prison before he hurts anyone else.”

“Okay... Who?”

“Tommy Elliot.” Bruce went on to tell him about what happened in the past year.

“So, you're saying that... Tommy Elliot, the guy you used to be friends with when you were kids, has come back to Gotham to 

impersonate you and ruin your reputation?”

“Yes.”

“And why would you think I'd want to stop him?”

“Jason! Do you even know what he did to me and Alfred six months ago?”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard a little snippet about it around town. So?”

“He took us hostage in our own house, and threatened to kill both of us if we didn't cooperate with his sick scheme!”

“But, you got out, Bruce.”

“Yes, by blowing up Wayne manor!”

“So? You still got out. Just like you always do. Why do you need my help?”

“Because, I've given up Batman for a while... I'm still not in peak mental condition and-”

“Yeah, you think?”

“Jason,” he started to get a little angry. “Are you going to help me with this, or not?”

Jason sighed into the phone's speaker, causing a static puff of air. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Jason, I'll repay you for-”

The young man interrupted him, “I'll only do this under one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“I take Elliot in, and do with him as I please... on my terms.”

“What? No, Ja-”

“And this is the last damn thing I ever do for you!” With that, he hung up the phone, leaving a ringing on the other end of the line.

Bruce slammed the phone down angrily. “Grrrrr!”

~:~

Tommy went into his private library to study. He traced his fingers across a few titles before pulling out a book and dusting off its cover. 

He started for the couch in the middle of the room, but stopped when he thought he heard something. He turned his head toward the 

window. It was dark outside and the curtains were drawn open. He set his book down on a table and headed to the window to close the 

curtains. He suddenly heard a slight shuffling noise outside. “Hmm.” He took a hold of the curtains. He was about to close them when 

someone suddenly jumped through the window, landing on him. Glass flew everywhere and scattered across the rug.

Tommy growled with gritting teeth. He tried to get up as he rolled the person over to get them off of him. He felt a stinging on his left 

cheek bone. He felt his face and grabbed the inch sized piece of glass out of his flesh. He looked up to see his intruder already to his feet. 

He was dressed in black with a brown jacket and a red hood covering his entire face. The man reached a hand out to help Tommy up.

Tommy pushed the guys hand away harshly and sputtered, “What the hell are you doing here, Red hood?” He got to his feet and 

frowned at the guy. “Or should I say, Todd?”

Red hood chuckled. “Well, that's no way to greet an old friend, Tommy.”

“Oh, and crashing through my window and using me as cushion is?”

“Well, maybe you can just charge Bruce Wayne's bank accounts to repair the damage. You've done it before, right?”

“What do you want?” Tommy went to sit down on one of the chairs.

“Well,” Red hood stepped forward. “you see, Tommy, my ex old man told me about what you've been up to in Gotham, and... well, he 

wants me to keep an eye on you.”

The man chuckled sarcastically. “ 'An eye on me'? Believe me, there's already a million people doing just that already. I'm practically on 

house-arrest.”

Red hood leaned against a table. “And how's that?”

“I already know there's an undercover detective spying on me, who pretended to be my friend for a while. And then there's everyone on 

the streets, practically... eyeballing me, suspicious if I'm really Bruce Wayne.”

Red hood chuckled, “Sounds more like a guilty conscience to me.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I didn't ask for your opinion, Todd.”

“Okaaay then.” Red hood stood up straight and walked to stand in front of Tommy. He leaned in a little to study the man's face. “Wow, I 

must admit... the resemblance is uncanny.”

“Stop staring.” Tommy looked away, annoyed.

“So, why did you do it? You went to all that effort of changing your face just to go out and give Bruce a bad name?”

He looked at him. “You're young, Todd. You wouldn't understand.”

“To be honest... I don't want to understand the motives of you psychopaths.”

Tommy quickly looked at him. “You better watch your tongue, hood...” he stood up, towering over the young man a couple inches. “Or 

you might just lose it.” He got in his face.

“I'd like to see you try, Elliot. Maybe you're too deranged that you didn't happen to notice, but 'I'm' the one wearing a helmet.” He 

abruptly pulled out his gun, hiding in his holster.

Tommy chuckled and took a step back with his hands up. “Oh, no, a little boy and his gun.”

“What's wrong?” Jason pointed the gun at Tommy's skull.

He shook his head and pursed his lips.

“Maybe you should've started a habit of carrying your gun on you at all times, Tom Tom.”

“I guess I'm just not used to 'so called, vigilantes' breaking into my house and threatening to gun me down in my own home.” He started 

to walk behind the couch.

“Don't move!”

He stopped. “What would your father say, Jason? Killing his oldest friend. In fact, his only friend that he's ever had.”

“I'm gonna just pretend that you're actually Bruce. So that when I kill you, I'll really enjoy it.”

“Is that why you're always rescuing and helping Bruce out when he's in a pickle?” Tommy came closer to him. 

Red hood lowered his arm as he thought about what he was saying. 

Tommy suddenly came beside him and knocked the gun out of his hand. 

“Ugh!” Red hood tried to bend down to reach his gun when Tommy kicked it and it slid ten feet across the floor. He tried to go after it, 

but Tommy jumped on him and sent him to the ground. 

“Take that damn hood off and make it a fair fight!” Tommy spat, trying to hold him down on the ground.

“No!” Red hood tried to get free.

He got his hands around Red hood's neck and tried to press down his windpipe with his thumbs.

Red hood struggled, breaking free one of his arms from under his attacker, and then trying to punch him in the face with his gloved 

hands. He landed a less than strong punch because of becoming weak from the lack of oxygen getting to his blood. He then tried pushing 

Tommy's head to the side, trying to break his neck with as much strength as he could muster. 

Tommy rolled himself off, “Bastard.”

Red hood gasped for breath as he reached in his belt for a knife. He sat up, holding it out to show him. The two slowly stood up at the 

same time. Both watching each other closely for any sudden moves.

Jason breathed heavy under his hood, he swallowed and then jumped, pushing him against a wall. 

“Grrrr!”

Jason locked Tommy's head in between his arm and the wall. He then placed his pocket knife to the man's throat.

“Go 'head. Do it.” Tommy clenched his teeth.

The Red hood was silent as he stuck the sharp tip of the blade into him while watching the blood trickle down his throat.

“It's funny, Todd.” He said, “I thought you and I were kind of friends. But then again, when I got you to rat out your old man, I just knew 

that you had a disloyal streak in you.”

“No... If I was disloyal, I wouldn't be letting you live... I'd be killing you in spite of him.” He removed his pocket knife from Tommy's 

throat and put it back in his belt, loosening the headlock on his victim.

Tommy angrily pushed his shoulders, making the hood almost lose his balance. He composed himself, brushing off his shoulders and 

smoothing his shirt. “You have some nerve, hood.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I do. Now, I'll just have to leave you to your books, Einstein.” He headed for the window. He turned his head. “Just 

remember, Elliot... I could kill you as easily as I've killed any creep in this damned world.”


	6. The Secret Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's scared enough to take refuge in Susan's apartment.  
> But Susan's keeping secrets and he finds a secret letter about himself.  
> ~  
> Louise Landerfall's character I based on the little minor character in Batman: Hush comics; a woman named Connie. (*Ahem* whom Tommy later did something horrible to)

The birds were chirping in the cool, misty early morning. Susan was at her apartment. She threw on 

her pink robe over her mid-thigh length silk nightgown and then went into the kitchen. She took the 

carafe off of the coffee pot's burner and filled it up with water. She scooped a tablespoon at a time into 

the coffee filter. Then her impatience got the better of her and she just poured the rest of the grounds in. 

She closed the lid and turned it on. 

An anxious knock sounded on her apartment door. She frowned to herself as she wondered who 

could be here at this time in the morning. She went to the door, tying her pink robe tighter as she 

peeked through the peephole. It was Tommy or Bruce? She opened the door with a questioning 

expression. “Yeah?”

“Susan, can I come in?” He sounded like he was exhausted. He was wearing a brown scarf around his 

neck.

She squinted her eyes, “Tommy?” 

“Yes. It's me.”

“Sure, I... guess.” She stepped aside as she let him inside.

He glanced around the apartment before his eyes quickly scanned her nightgown and robe. He 

stopped to look at her.

Susan pulled her robe tighter, crossing her arms. “What's going on, Tommy? You seem... anxious.” 

She watched him closely. “Are the police after you again?”

“Not that I know of?” He watched her as if his life in prison was at her disposal.

“Then, what's wrong?”

“Pretenses aside... I'm not as fashionable as this scarf might lead you to believe.” He started 

unraveling the scarf from his neck. 

“Nope. I just sort of figured Estella gave you a love bite or something.”

“No.” He let the scarf hang loosely from his shoulders and over his collarbones. He stuck his chin in 

the air so that she could see the big bruising in the middle of his throat, along with a gash from a knife 

being pierced into him.

She gasped as she stepped closer to examine his injury. She looked at the cut on his cheekbone from 

the glass and then looked to his throat. 

“The thing is... Red hood tried to kill me last night.”

“What? The vigilante who offs dozens of crime lords as easily as swatting flies?” She gently circled 

her finger around his wound.

“Mm... easier.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

“No. I mean sometimes even swatting a fly is much harder for him. ”

She smirked. “Heh.” She then flicked her middle finger to his wound. 

“Ow!”

She turned around. “You know, Tommy. I'm surprised you came to me at all.” She came to the 

loveseat in her living room, sat down, and crossed her legs.

He walked over to her, frowning. “I thought- I thought we were friends, Susan. Remember?”

“Friends? I don't know. Being your friend's an awfully hard job... and then some.”

He puffed a whiff of air from his lungs. “What do you mean?”

“If you haven't noticed, you're not your average Joe. You're... high maintenance.” 

“High maintenance? Really?” He plopped down on the loveseat, beside her. He surreptitiously 

glanced down at her bare legs under her short nightgown. 

She noticed and leaned toward him, smirking. “Really.” She looked down at his lips and with her 

long fingernail, scraped along his jawline.

He glanced down at her lips.

She randomly sniffed the air. “Mm. Do you want some coffee?”

He sighed. “Okay.”

 

She stood at her white counter in the kitchen and in front of the coffee pot. She opened the wooden 

cupboard above.

He leaned against the island counter behind her.

“Black?”

“Sure.” He stared at the back of her head.

She reached inside the cabinet and brought down two white mugs and put them on the counter.

“Susan...” He stood up straight and stepped closer to her. “If you don't want anything to do with me... 

just say the word and you'll never see me again.”

She put her hand on the carafe and paused. “I... I don't know if that's exactly what I want.” She 

poured the black coffee into both of the mugs.

He leaned in, put a hand on each of her shoulders and breathed onto the back of her neck. “Then what 

'do' you want?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. She picked up a mug and handed it over her shoulder without 

looking back. 

He bit his bottom lip and wavered for a second before taking it from her. “Thank you.” He turned 

around and took a sip.

“I guess...” She grabbed her mug and held it to her mouth. She turned around to look at him as she 

leaned against the counter. “All I want... is a much needed caffeine buzz to get me through the day. And 

then maybe, just maybe... a bottle of white wine to top everything off.”

He sighed, “Does everyone have to turn to alcohol to solve their problems around here?”

“Oh, I'm just a casual, honest.”

“Mm hm. Alright.” He leaned against the island counter again. “Does my taking refuge at your 

apartment cause any problem for your... drinking indulgences?”

She laughed softy. “Only if you try to influence me while I'm 'under' the influence.” She raised an 

eyebrow, taking a sip of her coffee.

He took the joint of his thumb in between his front teeth, apprehensively. “Heh. And why would that 

be such a 'bad' thing?” 

“We're 'friends'... remember?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Right.”

She smirked, left him in the kitchen and headed off to her bedroom to get dressed

~:~  
Tommy took his cup of coffee and headed into the living room. One of the windows' blinds were 

open and he could see that it was raining outside. He walked to the couch and sat down. He looked 

down on the coffee table at a few magazines laid out on it. There were also a stack of unopened mail 

sitting right beside it. He set down his coffee cup and glanced around the room. He picked up the stack 

of letters. There were letters from credit card companies, multiple bills, advertisements, and then... 

'Louise Landerfall?' He immediately set-apart the letter from the group and looked over the sender's 

name and address again to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. He glanced around the 

room one more time and then stuck the letter in his back pocket as he stood up. He walked into the 

hallway, looking for a bathroom.

He saw two doors. One was closed with the light on, obviously leading to her bedroom and one was 

open, lights off, the guest bathroom. He opened the bathroom door, went inside and locked it behind 

him. He turned his back to the bathroom counter and pulled the letter from out of his back pocket. 'Why 

in heaven's name would Louise Landerfall write Susan a letter? I wasn't even aware that the two knew 

each other.'

'Oh, Louise Landerfall... the middle aged, privileged, unhappily married woman who was always on 

the guest list of the many parties my mother would throw while I was a teenager. And not to mention, 

the woman who I had a one-night-stand with at Bruce Wayne's party... coincidentally, on the night of 

his being drugged and kidnapped.. now that I think about it... with the help of Mrs. Landerfall herself, 

actually... Well, let's see what business she has with Susan.'

He slid his thumb inside the envelope's crease and unsealed it without tearing it, perchance that he 

could reseal it later. That all depended on the contents of the letter and if he wanted to even give it back 

to her. He finally pulled the letter out and unfolded it. It read...

~Dear Miss Susan Garfield. Don't apologize for contacting me. I'm willing to help you in anyway I can, 

but, there's really not much I can tell you about your person of interest. I knew him casually when he was 

growing up as a young lad, but barely knew him as an adult. The last I saw him was at Mr. Bruce Wayne's 

party almost a year ago. Then after that, I haven't heard from him since. Maybe we can meet this Sunday at 

ten o'clock in the morning if there's anything else you want to talk to me about. If you can't make it Sunday, 

I'll most likely be there anyway enjoying my usual ritual in my usual spot in the San Josephina cafe. So, come 

if you like. ~Sincerely, Louise Landerfall~ 

'Honestly, that didn't give me much of anything. Wait, today's Sunday.' He looked at his watch on his 

wrist. 'And she's going to be at the San Josephina cafe in around forty-five minutes!'

After managing to reseal the letter with a little glue and placing it back on the coffee table, Susan 

came out of her bedroom, dressed neatly and make up freshly put on. 

He stood by the rainy window. “Awe. So 'that's' what you look like when you're trying extra hard to 

be beautiful. Or is that just how you are normally?”

She frowned, “I'm not 'trying' to be anything.” She told him seriously. She went and sat down on the 

couch and picked up her mail and scanned through it.

He sat down next to her. “I know. It was a joke.”

She glanced at him after she saw the envelope from Mrs. Landerfall. She quickly covered it with one 

of the other envelopes.

“The thing is...” he stood up and pointed his thumb behind him at the front door. “I got to go, Susan. 

There's this appointment I have and I absolutely can't miss it.” He headed for the door.

“Oh.” She looked a little disappointed. “Okay. Sure. By all means.” She walked up to him as he stood 

in the entryway. “Just...” She took his scarf and wrapped it around his neck and tied it. “Don't go killing 

yourself while you're out. Okay?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Now you're actually worried about me? You surprise me, Susan.”

“Well, you 'did' almost kick-the-bucket last night.” She paused and stared at him. “Unless you were 

'lying' to me about that Red hood charade?”

“ 'Lie' to you? Susan...” he got in her face. “You and I never 'lie' to each other.”

She met his gaze.

He glanced down. “Do we?”

She took a step back. “No. Never. And you especially never lie to anyone ever. No one by the name 

of Estella Lynn especially.”

He chuckled, sarcastically. “Mm hm. See you later.” He turned and went out the door.

~:~

Tommy arrived at the San Josephina cafe, hoping to get some answers from Louise. He knew that 

she was going to recognize him as Bruce Wayne, so he had to keep in mind to dust off the old acting 

chops and play the part. He wasn't afraid to admit that his acting kind of sucked. He couldn't help but 

get bored and slip back into his own personality which was much more stimulating in his opinion.

There she was. Already sitting alone at a table for two at the back of the cafe. She was reading a book 

and drinking her coffee. Tommy ordered a drink and then went over to her table. She didn't look up 

when he came. He cleared his throat, placed a hand on the book and lowered it away from her face. 

“What is a gorgeous woman, like yourself, doing hiding her beauty behind a book?”

She looked at him and smiled. “Oh.” The brunette woman giggled softly. “Bruce Wayne. Who 

would've thought you were such a flatterer?”  
He smiled and paused.

“Oh, that's right... the tabloids and... everyone else.” She chuckled. “Please, join me.”

He took a seat across from her. “Thanks.”

“This is quite the treat. It's not every day that a handsome young man compliments me and then 'also' 

wants to sit down to coffee with me.”

“Yes, well... I can't help myself. I have so much to give... particularly to the ladies.”

She grinned. “In more ways than one, I'm sure.”

'Wow. I thought I was the one who liked to play mind games using double-entendres.' He let out a fake 

laugh which came out more as uncomfortable as he thought about their 'one night' together. “Um, 

Louise... there's someone I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Does the name Tommy Elliot ring a bell?”

She immediately froze and avoided eye contact. “Um, yes. That name is in fact, familiar.”

“Mm. Pray, do tell.” He leaned over the table and toward her as he took a sip of his drink.

“Well, you know more about him than I do. Weren't you two friends, growing up?”

“We were. Not anymore. Your typical relationship... it's over before you say your vows.”

She frowned.

“Never mind.”

“Oh... Well, Tommy Elliot seemed like a highly intelligent man, but also... very disturbed in a way.”

He slammed his mug down on the table in irritation. He gave her a phony smile.

“Don't break the porcelain, Mr. Wayne.” 

“Sorry.” He cursed to himself as he realized how odd and obvious his reaction was.

“But, he is a very attractive man.”

“This, I know.” He gave her a small smile.

She looked at him as a smile came to her face and she let out a small giggle. “I feel like we know 

each other. I feel like I can tell you things, you know. Things that I wouldn't just tell anyone.”

He reached to hold her hand on the table. “Me too, Louise. Me too.” His eyes softened as he subtly 

batted his eyelashes at her.

She watched him, squeezing his hand in return. “I- I- um, there's something that I did awhile back, 

and I-”

“Louise...” He looked down at her hand on the table and started caressing it, gently. 

She looked intently at him, curious as to what he was going to say.

He looked at her, “you don't have to apologize for any past mistakes in my honor. I forgive you for 

anything you might've done. I know it wasn't your fault.”

Her eyes widened, “do you know what I've done?”

He ignored her question as he released her hand, and moved his own to his lap. “So, you know a 

woman named, Susan Garfield, yes?”

“Um,” she shifted nervously, “yes. Yes, I know her a little.”

“What I wanna know is... why is she probing you for information about Tommy?”

“Mr. Wayne, I- uh, I think that's confidential.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”,

She shook her head, “it's really nothing, Mr. Wayne. From what I gather, she's just a curious girl, that's 

all.”

He leaned back in his chair and stared at her, silently for a moment. “I guess I won't be making any 

headway here. Thanks for the little chat.” He stood up from the table to stand beside her chair. He bent 

forward, handing her a little white card as he lowered his voice. “Here's my number if you change your 

mind.”

She took his card and turned to look closely at his profile. He met her with eye contact one last time 

and then he left the cafe.


	7. Intoxication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy comes back to Susan's apartment, only to find that she's deeply intoxicated and acting very strange.

Tommy drove back to Susan's apartment. Seeking refuge just in case he were to be jumped by Red 

hood again. He knew Red hood wasn't afraid to kill. If he was going to be afraid of anyone, it would be 

him, at least until he figured out his next move. There's one thing he knew for certain... Susan was 

definitely up to something. If only he could find out why and who Susan's spying on him for.

 

He came upstairs into the apartments' hallway and knocked on her door.

After a moment, she answered. She opened the door, leaning on it, dazedly. She tried to focus her eyes 

on him. “Oh, hi... Tommy. Just who I wanted... to see.” She stepped aside and let him inside.

He frowned at her. “Susan? Are you feeling okay?”

“Feeling okay? Oh, I'm feeling more than okay.” She walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it, 

resting her head on the arm rest.

He followed her. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” She motioned for him to take a seat.

He grabbed her by her calves and moved her feet to the ground so that he could sit down. He stared in 

front of him at the two empty wine bottles and an empty wine glass sitting on the coffee table. A look 

of realization came over him. He looked over at her and shook his head.

“What's wrong?” Susan managed to sit up to look at him. 

He looked at his watch. “Well, let's see... does the fact that you're wasted at twelve o'clock in the 

afternoon mean anything to you?”

“Wasted? No.” She chuckled as she edged closer to him. “I just had a teeny... tiny bit of wine to relax 

myself.” She started rubbing his shoulder. “That's all... really.”

“Mm hm.”

“You want some? I have another bottle that I haven't opened, yet.”

“No.”

“Well, I think I'm gonna have just one more glass.” She started leaning in toward the coffee table.

He put his arm out to stop her. “Susan, I think you've had enough.”

“Oh, come on.” she paused, frowning. She tried moving his arm out of the way but he wouldn't 

budge. “You can't tell me what to do.” She started hitting his arm with her fists. “If I want more of 'my' 

wine that 'I' paid for, then I should be allowed to have it, you jerk.”

He raised his eyebrows and removed his arm. “Fine. See to it yourself.”

“Hmph.” She opened the bottle and poured another glass of wine. She took a huge swallow and 

smacked her lips loudly to annoy him. She leaned back again and bit her bottom lip as she stared at   
him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Disregarding your being a control freak, has anyone ever told you that you look 'really' good?”

“No... just drunk women, apparently.”

She giggled. “Well, this girl is one of those drunk people.” She hummed as she took another sip and 

then set her glass down, giggling.

He looked at her and frowned.

“Why are you acting like such a sour puss? Are you upset that you're too much of a dud to have any   
wine?”

“No. I could very well have some, I just don't 'want' any.”

“Why not? It tastes really good and the feeling it gives you, there's nothing like it. It's amazing.” She 

leaned her face towards his. “No care in the world.”

He glanced down at her lips and then quickly looked away.

She leaned her torso in, unbalanced and weak. Not able to control herself fully, she ended up falling 

on him as she tried to kiss him.

He grabbed a hold of her shoulders. “Ugh! What are you doing?”

She stared at his mouth. “I don't know.” She tried regaining her balance by grabbing his knee and 

kneading it slowly with her fingers. “Tell me, honestly... have you ever been drunk in your entire life?”

He shoved her to the side, “no.”

“No? See, you don't even know what you're missing. The high. You don't know how good it feels.” 

She grazed her hand along the length of his thigh.

He twitched. “Stop.”

She ignored his protestations. She suddenly grabbed the hair from the back of his head and held his 

head still. She pulled him towards her with her lips just almost touching his.

He clenched his jaw in agitation.

She placed his bottom lip in between her front teeth. She nibbled it, pulling his lip forward and then 

watching it spring back.

He now didn't try to free himself from her hands as he opened his mouth partly. His eyes closing. It 

seemed like he was almost enjoying the rough grip she had on him as he remained silent.

He opened his eyes to look at her for a second before she went in again. Her lips started moving 

swiftly onto his while he finally started reciprocating.

After a moment, he jerked his head away from the kiss to catch his breath. He suddenly pushed her 

away. “You're drunk. You're not thinking.”

She leaned in again, touching her mouth to his ear and whispered. “If you don't want it, then put up 

'more' of a fight.” She pulled his hair, craning his head back.

He trembled with frustration, gritting his teeth. She scraped a finger along his bottom lip. At that, he 

turned and clutched her blonde hair from the back of her head, even rougher than she had. He paused, 

scanning her entire face before his eyes rested on her lips.

She closed her eyes, parting her lips, not knowing if he was going to kiss her or not. She remained 

hopeful in anticipation. To her pleasure, he at last, held her while kissing her hard and abrasively. 

~:~

Susan woke up early the next morning in her bed. She had forgotten everything for a moment. She squinted her eyes at the digital clock by her nightstand, it was four o'clock in the morning. The 

alcohol's affects had warn off. Then suddenly, bits and pieces came back to her. The realization of what 

happened the day before, came flooding back. In her drunken state of mind, she was seeing proverbial 

stars and didn't hardly comprehend what she was doing. She remembered how she collapsed into his arms. 

In the present, she gasped when she turned over to see him in the bed beside her. Sleeping on his 

back, topless with his muscular arms out and over the covers. His face was turned away from her.

She managed to sit herself up in bed. She felt strange in her sober state, to be laying there with 'him' 

with nothing but sheets and blankets. She got up and quietly scavenged her dresser for some underwear 

and her pink nightgown. She put it on and then crawled back into bed. 

While on her side, she scooted her body toward him, then pressed against his side. She put a hand on 

his bare chest and moved her face to gently lay a kiss on his neck. He stirred and turned his face only 

inches from hers. She stared at him, wondering if she had roused him and thinking about what she 

would say if she had.

What did this mean for them? She didn't mean to let it get this far, but it did and they both had to live 

with the consequences. How would she go about with her detective work now that she had let herself 

become so... involved?

She continued to lay there, watching his face closely for any movement for about ten minutes. 

Eventually his eyes flitted partly open when she let out too loud of a sigh. She held her breath as she 

laid there like a rock, wondering if he would mumble that it was a mistake and be upset. No matter how 

good it was, she couldn't help but feel guilty, like she had done something wrong. She was drunk after 

all, and wasn't reasoning. Right and wrong was utterly blurred yesterday and she had no idea what his 

view on the matter was. She hoped for the best. What exactly was the best anyway? She didn't know.

His eyes opened. He jerked his head back a little with a groan when he saw her face right in front of his. 

“Sorry.” She whispered, “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Mm.” He started to turn to his side, away from her. 

She kept her hand on him, wrapping it around his shoulder as she ghosted her lips across his ear, “don't.”

He paused, then turned to lay on his back again to look at her. He glanced down, noticing her pink nightgown.

She budged, reaching to comb her fingers through his dark hair. “Aren't you going to say something?”

He sighed deeply, “I don't know.” He turned to his side, facing her. “What do you want me to say?” 

To her surprise, he wrapped an arm around her, placing his hand on her back, and pulling her closer. 

He raised his chin while her head fell to his chest. He held her head with a strong grip which made her 

feel a sublime sense of protection. They laid there silently for a while. She listened to his heart beat and 

felt the warmness of his breath soothing her ear.

“What do you mean?” She spoke softly.

He opened his eyes in the darkness to stare at the wall.

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

His voice rumbled through his chest. “The sun will be up in a couple hours. We can see how we feel, then.”

She lifted her head to look up at him, puzzlingly. 

He met her eye contact. With one last obscure look from him, he ceased his hands from her and 

turned back around, laying on his other side.

She frowned as she scooted her body, pressing up against his back as she put an arm around him. She 

gripped his forearm and whispered in his ear, “Tommy, what do you mean?” 

He was silent for a moment until he turned his head to look at her under his lashes, “Susan?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't want to talk about this right now.”

“Oh.” In disappointment, she removed her arm from him as she shifted her body onto her back. She 

quietly decided to resign and soon fell asleep.

~:~  
In mid-morning, Susan awoke and noted the empty side of her bed. She got up and put on some 

clothes. She went out of her bedroom and didn't find Tommy anywhere. She frowned, and got her 

phone out of her purse. She scrolled through her contacts' list and tapped on his name. She faltered 

momentarily as she wondered what to say.

She finally wrote, 'Hey. About last night. Can we meet and talk?'  
After she went into her kitchen and was contemplating about putting on a pot of coffee, she got a   
reply back saying, 'Yes. At my house?'  
'Ok'  
~:~

At Elliot manor. Susan couldn't help but let a twinge of jealousy come over her. “Umm,” she looked at Estella. “What is 'she' doing here?” 

“She lives here.”

“You guys live together?”

Estella sat on the couch, grinning. “Mostly, yes. I sometimes am out of town on holiday, but my off 

days, I'm residing in this wonderful mansion.” She took a sip of her wine and giggled in the most 

schoolgirl fashion imaginable.

Susan raised an eyebrow as she lusted after the dark red wine in the woman's goblet. She shook her 

head, and noted the fierce headache from her hangover. She turned to Tommy, “Um, can I talk to you 

alone for a moment?”  
He puffed a whiff of air, “of course.” 

She went into the kitchen and he followed behind her. As soon as the kitchen door closed, she 

grabbed him and thrust him against the counter.

“Mm. I get kinkiness, but when Estella's in-”

She squeezed his arm. “Why would you say to meet me here if she was here? Didn't you get what I 

was wanting to talk to you about?”  
“Yes. I did. But Estella's halfway out of her mind right now. I didn't think it'd matter. Besides, there's 

plenty of rooms to do... stuff.” 

Susan frowned and held her mouth open. “ 'Halfway out of her mind'? Is that what I was yesterday? 

Is that what you do for sport these days? Take advantage of drunk women so that they can be at your 'sick' mercy?”

He looked away from her and sighed. “I'm sorry about yesterday. You do remember what happened, right?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“It's fine. A part of me knew what I was doing. I came on to 'you'... But with Estella... what's with 

her? You do realize that she's just leeching off your money, 'right'?” 

He leaned against the counter with a blank expression. 

She cocked her head. “What are you doing with her, Tommy?”

He looked down at his feet.

“What? You better tell me right now, or I'm going to assume the worst?”

He sighed, “Estella is a born privileged, 'never worked a day in her life', on the 'brink' of being a non-functioning alcoholic.”

She frowned, “Really? Wait, didn't I see you run to the store to buy some booze for her that one 

time? Why would you do that if you knew she had a problem?”

He looked away from her and sighed. “Maybe because I wanted to just please a friend. Or maybe... I 

just wanted to take advantage of her.” He watched her for a reaction.

“You bastard!” She slapped him with as much strength as she could muster. 

“Mm.” His right cheek stung and turned red with her hand print. He suddenly gripped her arms 

intensely tight and gritted his teeth. “Damn it, Susan!”

“N-no!” She pushed him away with as equal of intensity. “What is this? You loathe your parents, but 

yet, you're just as controlling as your mother and just as abusive as your father.”

He immediately looked away, trying to calm his breathing. “I can't believe you would say that.”

“Well, it's true.”

He brought his fist to his mouth while shaking his head. “God, Susan, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have-”

“I know. I'm sorry, too. But you know what, you wouldn't like me anymore anyway... I'm sober.” She 

was about to walk away to leave him, but then she stopped, and turned back around.

It appeared as if that the small amount of time that her back was turned, he had composed himself as 

if nothing had happened, and leaned against the counter.

“So...” She suddenly didn't feel as angry as she looked down at his broad chest. “What does this mean   
for us, then?”

He crossed his rolled up sleeved arms and stood up straight. “I don't know. Have you found out 

everything you need to know about me yet, detective?”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Susan.” He took a step closer. “We both know that you're a spy.”

She jerked her head. “What?”

“ 'I' wasn't even the one spying, but I think I know everything about 'you' now.”

“Oh, yeah? Heh, like what?” She stuck her chin up in the air to look at him.

He stepped even closer to her as he lowered his voice. “Like how you act when you're so... 'clearly'   
enjoying yourself.” He glanced down and smirked. 

She gasped, feeling a pit in her stomach from embarrassment. He purposely nudged her shoulder with his arm as he walked past her and exited the kitchen.

She clenched her fists as she felt the warmth of humiliation settle inside her. She had let herself 

become the most vulnerable possible in her life. Intoxicated and not thinking clearly. Did he take 

advantage? Well, not exactly. She had come on to him and wouldn't stop despite his protestations. But 

now, afterward, he seemed to have no respect for her. He even was making fun of her. Susan gulped as 

she built up the courage to leave the kitchen and to ask Estella a few questions. What if she was just   
another innocent victim? 

She entered the parlor where Estella and Tommy were sitting. “Oh, boy,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that? 'Susan', was it?” Estella smiled.

“Oh, yes. Um, it was nothing, really.”

There was a glass pitcher of ice tea on the coffee table with a few glasses. Tommy leaned forward and 

poured a glass. He looked up at Susan, “Would you like some?”

“Fine.” She came up and took a seat on the other side of him.

He turned and handed her a glass with a blank expression.

She gave him a phony smile. She stopped before she took a sip. “Wait, don't tell me you spiked this.   
Did you?”

He let out a chuckle and smirked. “Maybe I did. Do you trust me?”

“No. I don't, actually. Especially after what you said.” She set her glass down on the coffee table.

 

Estella seemed to be out of it enough to not think much of what they were saying. “If you guys will excuse me. I'm going to go get a refill.” She stood up and stumbled out of the room.

“So...” Susan placed a hand on his knee. 

He glanced down, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you going to tell her who you really are?” She started sliding her hand up his thigh slowly. She 

smirked, knowing that she was making him uncomfortable.

His breath hitched as he clenched his teeth. “Stop.” He sounded parched. “We've already done this.” 

He quickly grabbed her hand and shoved it off him.

“I know. Didn't you like it?” She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “We both know you did.” She   
then started mouthing his neck.

He shut his eyes and tried controlling his breath, “Just stop. She's... in the other room.” He said the 

words so passively, she could tell that he didn't mean them.

She pulled away. “Oh, I'm sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable?” She stared at him.

He turned his face toward hers, looking down at her lips while faintly panting.

At that moment, Estella returned.  
Susan backed away and sunk back into her seat.

He took in a shaky breath, trying to compose himself while putting on a smile as he looked up at Estella.

“Am I interrupting something?” She came dazedly over and plopped down next to him, smiling.

He shook his head, almost as if he was trying to wake himself from a bad dream. “N-no, nothing. 

Uhh, I believe Susan was just leaving.”

“Not so fast.” Susan said, “Is it true that you have a drinking problem, Estella?”

Immediately, the woman became serious. “Um...” Her high pitched voice had suddenly rose to an 

even higher pitch, going up an entire octave. “Why would you- why would you think that?” She tried   
putting on a smile. 

He took a huge breath, holding it for a moment. He reached over and grabbed Estella's hand to   
squeeze it tight.

“Tommy, I don't like you influencing her. You're making yourself even more suspicious!”

Estella frowned, “ 'Tommy?'”

“Yes, that's his name. Didn't you know?”

“Susan?” 

“Oh, I'm sorry. Did I expose you finally?”

“Tommy's my middle name.” He chuckled.

“Stop lying. Tell her that you're not Bruce Wayne.”

He shook his head. “I should've never trusted you.”

“Ditto.”

Estella put a hand on his face, she turned him to face her. “What is she talking about, Bruce?”

He avoided eye contact while a depressed expression came over him. “I- I'm sorry.” He stood up, “I 

have to go. You can see yourself out, Susan.”


	8. The Puppet and His Ventriloquist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new formed Ventriloquist tries breaking up a fundraising ball by orchestrating a heist.  
> Is She controlling the puppet? Or is the puppet controlling her?

In Wayne Manor parlor.

“Master Bruce?”

“Yes, Alfred?” He was standing at a desk against the wall, looking through some papers.

“I heard about your dragging Master Todd into this... Elliot business.”

“What about it?”

“Are you sure that it's such a good idea to involve that poor boy in anymore of your nonsense?”

“Are you implying something that 'I' did?”

“Master Bruce, we can't deny the fact of what happened to the boy while he was under your- 'our' 

care.”

“I know.” Bruce put his head down and paused. “But, Alfred,” he turned around. “Jason's strong now. 

I used to look at him and just see a rebellious punk... rebelling for the sake of rebelling. But, he's so 

much more than that. I always knew he was talented. Different than Dick.”

“I know, sir, but-”

“Alfred, I know what he's capable of, but I also know what Tommy is.”

 

~:~

Tommy attended a fundraising ball as Bruce Wayne. He smirked to himself as he went over his 

snarky speech in his head that he had prepared for the specific event. He planned on announcing his 

donating a million dollars a week to the cause. He knew it was a waste of money, but everyone would 

just have to go banging on Wayne's door until Bruce straightened out the misunderstanding. He was 

about to go up on stage when a woman broke through the mahogany french doors. She had her hand up 

a puppet's backside, holding a gun. A few gasps echoed through the ballroom.

A thick accented, synthetic, and gnarly voice broke through. “Now, I want all of yuh rich money bags 

ter hand me ovah all dim jewels of yours.” The blond nodded as she controlled the puppet with the gun. 

“Now, everyone just do as he says and no one has to get hurt.”

“Peyton!” Tommy recognized her. He made his way through the frightened uproar of a crowd.

The woman turned around quickly to see who knew her name. The puppet in her hand turned to 

exchange a glance with her. “Who dis, sugar?”

“I believe this is Bruce Wayne.” The puppet faced him, “Ah, Mr. moneybags, himself. Me likey.”

Tommy glanced at the puppet, then looked at her. “Peyton, what are you doing?”

“How do you know my name? I don't know you.”

“It's hard to explain, but I 'do' know you. Please, think about what you're doing, Peyton.” He came 

closer to grab a hold of her arm.

The puppet turned to look at its mistress. “Is this guy bothering you, sugar?”

“I don't know.” She frowned, “Let go of me, Mr. Wayne.” She yanked her arm. “Yeah,” the puppet 

said, “Don't touch my woman, you man whore.” The puppet held his gun to Tommy's chest.

He released her, backing up and still maintaining eye contact. 

“If you don't let us finish our job that we came heah t' do, we'll blow this entire ballroom to hell.”

“Peyton, what are you doing? Let's talk about this.”

“Okay, dis guy's givin' me duh willies. Take 'im down, sugar!”

“Wait! Peyton, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me what happened to the the original 

ventriloquist? Arnold Wesker? Did you-”

Scarface moved his head to eye Tommy. “Did someone say somethin' 'bout Dummy?”

Tommy gasped, feeling a little creeped out by the puppet.

“It's nothing, Mr. Scarface.” Peyton assured him. “...Ah, but I be pretty sure I heard dat dummy's 

name. I tell yuh, Mr. Wayne what done happened. I killed duh dummy myself, I did.”

Tommy frowned. 'Does she mean she killed him in order to take over his puppet, or did someone else 

kill him while controlling the puppet?'

“Dat dummy finally got what was comin' to 'im. I shot his brains out so I could neve' hear a dumb 

word out of his mouth again. Besides,” Scarface scooted closer to Peyton. “Now, I get dis sweetheart, 

sugar t' work with in a synergistic kinda way.” She smiled, “Oh, Mr. Scarface. You're too much.”

Tommy curled his upper lip in disgust. “Heh.”

“Now, yuh bette' not take dat as a compliment, yuh dumb broad.... Yes, Mr. Scarface.”

“Peyton, can we take this outside and talk about this?”

Mr. Scarface and Peyton exchanged glances. “See what dis boy wants, sugar. We take this outside, 

pappy and take the jackpot from yer deep pockets.”

“Fine.” Tommy raised his eyebrows as he calmly led her outside, not wanting to anger her.

After awhile of his speaking calmly in higher tones to Peyton as they stood outside and leaned against 

the railing, the puppet had seemingly fell asleep. He tried talking to her, hoping the Scarface 

personality wouldn't reawaken.

“So, Peyton, can you tell me what happened to you?”

She looked at him. “A lot happened after a man, Tom Elliot, broke up with me.” She wiped her 

watery eyes. “So strange to think that that was where it all started. It was just ten years ago. I wanted to 

marry a man named Matthew Atkins, but my father wouldn't have it. My father dreamed about a 

Gotham where the Irish and the Italian mobs no longer hammered against each other. He arranged a 

marriage for me with his enemy's son, Johnny Sabatino.”

Tommy frowned. “Oh. I see.”

“It was a horrible marriage. There was no love. After being abused for years, I had had enough and I 

had to get out.”

“He abused you, Peyton?”

“Yes.” Tears started forming in her eyes at the remembrance.

“I'm sorry. If only I had been there. I could've taken care of him.” He grabbed her by the arms.

“But, Mr. Wayne, you couldn't have done anything.”

“Oh, yes, I could've. You might not understand, but I have a history with abuse. And I know how to 

end it, too.”

She pouted her lips and frowned. “It doesn't matter anymore.” She lowered her head. “I couldn't live 

anymore. I had to find an escape. So I did... through Mr. Scarface.”

At that moment, Scarface shook himself awake from snoring. “Huh? Did yuh mention my name, 

sugar?” Peyton pouted her lips, sheepishly. “Sorry, Mr. Scarface.... Don't cha dare talk behind my back 

again, toots. Or I'mma break yuh in two, yuh dumb broad.” She put her hand in the puppet's backside, 

set him on her lap and slapped her own face with his plastic hand.

“Peyton!” Tommy tried grabbing Scarface from her.

The puppet grabbed its gun beside it and held it to Tommy. “I'mma blow your pretty brains out, boy. 

Don't cha dare lay a hand on 'me' or my sugar eve' again!”

Tommy looked at the puppet and then at Peyton as he backed off.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but Mr. Scarface doesn't like you very much.”

“I noticed.”

~:~

A loud knock sounded on the Elliot manor door. Peaking through the peep hole, Tommy saw that no 

one was there. He opened the door a jar to make sure, but suddenly the door swung open, sending him 

to the ground and on his back. 

It was the Red Hood. He barged in, bending down to grab Tommy by the shirt roughly. He pushed the 

man against the wall, locking his head with his arm. “You freak! You killed her! Didn't you?”

Tommy pursed his lips, flaring his nostrils. “Mm.”

“She was walking home and then was found dead on the side of the road. You killed her!”

“I didn't touch your girlfriend.”

The hood pushed with a little more pressure on the man's larynx while gritting his teeth. “Not 'my' 

girlfriend, dumbass... 'yours'.”

Tommy frowned.

“I bet you're wondering which one, huh? Since you like to play with so many.”

The man clenched his jaw, irritatingly. 

“Remember Estella Lynn?”

“What?”

“Don't act so damn surprised. You knew it already.”

“Wait... you think? Why do you think 'I' did it?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Red hood released him, taking a step back. “The police said that she was heading 

home to your damn mansion when she got killed. She lived here, right?”

“So?” Tommy looked down at his shirt, smoothing any wrinkles. “That doesn't mean anything.”

“Yeah? We'll see about that.” He spun around. “Oh, I can't wait to get your sorry ass back in jail for 

this.”

“Don't celebrate just yet, you fool. There's no proof I did anything.” 

“We'll see about that.” Jason shook his head, looking down at the ground. “I told Bruce I wouldn't let 

you hurt anyone else, and now... there's a woman dead and it's my fault.”

“Tut, tut. You're right. It 'is' your fault. Since you and your family devote yourselves to protecting the 

innocent. Maybe 'you' should've protected her. That's your job, son. Not mine.”

“Don't call me that! You may 'look' like him, but you're nothing damn close.”

“You know how cliché that sounds?”

“I don't care...” Red hood turned around and started pacing the floor. “You know, Elliot? You are your 

typical psychopath. Pretends to be something he's not, and then when no one's around, wham!”

Tommy straitened his jacket. “Well, you know, hood, it takes one to know one. So, bravo to you... 

besides...” He looked in a mirror on the wall and started smoothing his dark hair with his fingers. “I'm 

not the least bit affected by your little psycho-abuse. I've experienced it before... I'm used to it.”

“Awe, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.” Red hood chuckled, but then suddenly turned somber. 

“I'm so tempted to freakin' kill you right now.” The young man grabbed a tight hold of his gun in his 

holster, without drawing it.

“Why don't you, huh?” Tommy came closer, lowering his voice. “Since I'm such a psychopath. Isn't 

that what you do best to criminals in this city?” He cocked his head. “Unless... unless you're holding 

back because daddy would be upset.”

Red hood came closer, quickly drawing his gun and smacking the butt on Tommy's face in impulsive 

anger.

Tommy snarled. “Gahhhhh! You imbecile! Don't you realize 'I' could kill you if I wanted to?”

“Sure, you can.” The hood turned around, heading for the door. He looked over his shoulder, “Don't 

ever forget, I'm keeping an eye on you.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “God, you're an annoying twit!”


	9. Breaking and Entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy receives an unexpected phone call from Louise Landerfall. He chooses to take full advantage of her willingness to help him in any way she can. Later, Susan asks him for his alibi on a murder case she's working.

His cellphone rang loudly in the hollow and echoing halls of Elliot manor. He was sitting on the 

couch, reading, he laid his book on his lap and reached on the end table for the phone. “Hello?”

“Bruce Wayne?” An airy feminine voice spoke on the other end.

He paused, “yes?”

“Hi. You may not remember me, but I'm Louise Landerfall. I've been to your many celebratory 

parties in the past.”

Tommy shoved the book off his lap to sit up straighter while rubbing his knee, apprehensively. “Oh, 

yes. Uh, hello. Of course I remember you, Louise.” He tried to mimic Bruce's voice. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that if you need any help or anything from me, I'll be willing to 

be at your service.” An uneasy laugh rang through the line.

“Really? Well, that's... very nice of you, Mrs. Landerfall. I might just take you up on it someday.”

“Oh, good. You have my number. Don't ever hesitate to call.”

“Oh, I won't.” He chuckled.

“Alright, uh,” she awkwardly stuttered, “uh, t-t-talk with you s-soon. G-good bye.”

“Bye.” He hung up the phone and frowned. 'Why would she want to help Wayne out so much? Is she 

feeling guilty after our meeting, because of her helping drug him awhile back?' He looked at the phone 

in his hand and decided to call her back. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, it's Bruce. About that offer...”

~:~

“So, why exactly did you want to meet me here, Mr. Wayne?” Louise asked Tommy as the two stood 

together outside the FBI police department.

He put his hands in his pockets as he scanned the parking lot in the darkness. “Mrs. Landerfall, or... 

Louise, can I call you Louise?”

“Yes, of course.” She looked eager to please him.

He looked up at the brick building. “We're going to break into the FBI for some important information I need.”

“What? Really?” Her eyes widened as she tightened her lips into parallel lines. “Mr. Wayne-”

“Please call me Bruce.”

“Bruce, why would you want to do such a thing?”

“I told you, information. Now, come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the 

building. They came to a paddled lock on a gray door. He got on one knee as he pulled out a pair of 

tools to pick the lock.

She bent behind him as she whispered in the warm night air. “You know how to pick locks?”

“You can learn a lot of things if you're diligent enough to teach yourself.” With one last twist of 

metal, the padlock came undone, and he removed it. He turned to flash his eyebrows and smile at her.

“Most impressive.”

 

The inside of the building seemed deserted. The two snuck through the dark hallways until they got to 

a room which read, 'Detective F. Kellar.' They opened the unlocked door while Tommy switched on the 

light switch.

“I've never felt like such a schoolgirl before as I do right now.”

“Mm.” He smirked, shutting the door behind them. He immediately went to the desk which had a 

computer console atop it. He sat down in the chair and tried getting on the computer.

“How exactly are you planning on getting on without the detective's log-in info?”

He typed in a few quick possible and probable passwords. “I'm not entirely sure.” He sighed at the 

unsuccess, “just, keep an ear out for anyone possibly coming.”

She nodded. 

After about ten minutes later of multiple failed entry attempts, he resigned from the computer. He 

started going through the drawers of the desk.

“Bruce? Do you need help? That's a lot of papers.” She shifted nervously by the door.

He loudly whispered, “Blasted!” 

“Bruce?”

He straitened a stack of papers, then set it back inside one of the drawers. “Fine. Come here and look 

through this drawer.”

She joined him behind the desk, skeptically. “What are we looking for exactly?”

He stopped and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Anything that says 'Tommy Elliot' on it. I want 

you to snatch it and give it to me.”

She gasped, “Tommy Elliot? Why do you need papers on him?”

He sighed, “It's...” he pursed his lips. “It's a long story. I'll tell you later. Right now, we need to keep  
looking.”

After awhile of endless searching, she exclaimed, “here!” 

“Shhhhh.”

She held up a stack of papers. “Sorry. But, these have Tommy Elliot, literally, written all over them.”

“Ah, yes.” He grabbed it from her, a smile coming to his face. “I'm glad I brought you along, 

Louise.”

“Anything to repay you, Mr. Wayne.”

He paused. “Repay me?”

“Yes. I've been... haunted by something awful that I did a time ago, and... I want to make it right.”

He, of course, knew exactly what she was talking about... drugging Bruce Wayne at his own party. He 

smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever it was, I'm over it now.” He rose to his feet.

She sheepishly smiled. “You see, the only reason why I did it was-”

He looked the other way and rolled his eyes at her continuing on.

“because I would get something in return that I so badly needed at the time.”

He paused. 'Is she talking about sleeping with me that night?' He turned to look at her over his 

shoulder. “Then it was worth it, right?”

She held his gaze in a mesmerized way. “Yes.”

He swallowed, then quickly looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Um, come on. I believe that's all 

we're going to be able to-” At that moment, suddenly the lights went off.

She gasped in fright and abruptly gripped onto his biceps in the dark. 

“It's okay, Louise.” He whispered. 

She released her grip, “oh, sorry.”

He brushed his body across hers as he tried feeling for the door in the dark. He tried the door, it was 

locked. He moved his hand to the side, feeling that the door was connected to a tech security panel. 

“Damn it.” He sighed, “Louise, come here.”

She followed his voice over to the door.

He grabbed her hand and placed it on the contraption. “A security panel.”

“Oh, no. How are we going to get past it?”

“We can't. I believe we've just experienced a power outage in the building.”

“What?”

His eyes started to adjust more with the help of the half moon in the sky, outside the window. He 

went to the window, reaching through the blinds. “And all the windows are barred. This is a pretty high 

security place.”

“Oh, no! You mean to tell me we're trapped inside here? Wait a second, no. I can call for help.” She 

reached inside her pocket for her cellphone.

He came up and yanked it out of of hands. “Are you crazy?”

She frowned.

“Do you you know what would happen if someone knew we broke in here?”

“But, we're just going to get caught anyway whenever the power comes back on, Bruce!” She 

whimpered.

“Calm yourself down.” He grabbed a hold of her arms. “Nothing's going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

“We'll find a way. Okay?” He handed back her phone. “We need to keep clear and alert minds. The 

last thing we need is panic. ”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him as she rested her head on his chest. “I'm not so 

panicked anymore.”

He paused, and then put his arms around her. He mindlessly rubbed her back gently in circular 

motions as he glanced around the office. There was a large bookshelf against the wall. “Well, if it 

wasn't so dim, we could read some text books or something while we wait for the power to go back 

on.” 

She let go of him, taking a step back. “If only.” She sighed worriedly as she found her way to the 

desk and sat down on it. She started swinging her legs as a refreshed coloring came to her face. “You 

know, Bruce, we could do something even more stimulating than reading.”

He followed her, raising his eyebrows.

“We could talk about you.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “About me? No.”

“Of course. What guy doesn't like talking about himself?”

“Uh...” he sat down on the desk beside her. “I... I don't know-”

She raised her eyebrows.

He looked at her, “who I am, I mean. So, I don't really know what to tell you.”

“Is it that you don't know who you are, or that you have secrets that you're not comfortable with 

sharing?”

“It's like you can read my mind. A little of both.”

“I'm not a meta-human, I promise,” she laughed.

“Heh, good. I'm a little prejudice, to be honest.”

She giggled, playfully nudging his arm. “Oh, Bruce. I must say, you're not who I thought you were. 

Your playboy image seems like a dead-giveaway, but... you're a lot more mysterious than the media 

would lead anyone to believe.” 

He laughed, “yeah.”

“I remember going to one of your first parties. You were only like eighteen years old and you were 

the shyest person in the room.”

He smiled, “oh, yeah. Those were the days, weren't they?”

“I remember the only person you seemed comfortable talking with... was Tommy Elliot. But from 

what I could tell, just from my own observation... he always was brief with you and made it seem like 

he wasn't really allowed to talk with you for long. I think it had something to do with his mother.”

Tommy paused, remembering. “Yeah...” he pursed his lips, nodding. “She was- I guess you could 

say, his mother was very controlling.”

“He did seem like a troubled lad. Haven't seen him in awhile. I wonder what happened to him.”

He avoided her gaze. “Yeah. I don't know. I wonder.”

 

A couple hours had passed of them just sitting, and talking in the dark. He glanced around the room. 

“Is it just me, or is it getting- heh... really hot in here?” With a finger, he wiped a drip of sweat that was 

trickling down his neck.

She wiped away the perspiration from her upper lip. “No, you're right. It is unpleasantly warm.”

He stood up and tried the door again with no avail. “I guess when the electricity went off, not only did 

it lock us in, but the air conditioning got whacked.”

“Oh really, mister obvious?” She slid out of her cardigan, leaving her in only a tank top. She sighed, 

“that's better.”

He joined her on the desk once again as he unbuttoned his first few buttons of his shirt. He puffed a 

whiff of air while smearing sweat off his forward with the back of his hand. “It doesn't really look like 

we'll be getting out of here 'til morning, Louise.”

“I think you're right.” The woman noticed how much more attractive he looked when he was saturated 

with sweat. An impulsive notion of getting closer to him invaded her consciousness as she watched 

him. She felt a strong temptation of entertaining those thoughts. “Whatever could we do for the rest of 

the night?” She continued staring at him as he now subtlety panted from the heat in the dark room 

while tugging at his collar. It felt like sweat was seeping through every pore.

He soon caught her gaze and lingered it. The sweat above his upper lip, dripping into his mouth.

She parted her lips, staring at him as she slowly scooted closer. He glanced down at her lips while 

lightly licking his. She leaned forward, reaching her hand to comb her fingers through his hair. She 

curled her fingers, raking his scalp and bringing him closer to her. They kissed, then leaned back at the 

same time to look at each other. 

Louise gasped as if she didn't realize what she was doing. She released her hand and covered her 

mouth. “I'm sorry. That was inappropriate of me.”

Tommy cleared his throat, “Uh, mm. Yeah, uh... you're right.”

She stood to her feet and walked over to the other side of the room to distance herself as she stared at 

a wall. “I mean, I practically watched you grow up, Bruce.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, I know. It's weird.” He stood to his feet.

“Not to mention...” she let out an anguished sigh, “I'm a married woman.”

He raised an eyebrow as he walked over to stand behind her. “I suspect... still unhappily?” 

“Oh my, yes.” She turned around.

“Why do you stay, Louise?” 

She tried to avoid eye contact. “I must admit... it's not for good reasons.”

He crossed his arms. “Let me take a shot in the dark... money?”

She looked astoundingly at him.

He shrugged. “Believe me, I know the story all too well. My mother lived it, which in turn, taught 

me.”

She tightened her lips. “George has his many mistresses, harlots, whatever you want to call them, 

across the world for whenever he travels for his job.”

“I bet he does.” He stepped closer, subtly checking her out in the low light.

“But the fact of the matter still remains... I 'am' married, Bruce.”

He looked at her seriously, lowering his voice. “I don't care.”

She gulped at his sternness, her heart starting to race. He placed a hand around her waist, all the while 

keeping his eyes fixed on her. She swallowed again, her eyes softening as she peered into his. He 

grabbed a hold of the back of her head and with one thrust, he pushed her against the wall.

Sweat dripped down both of their backs. When they went in, they kissed deeper than before. They 

both started letting their hands graze over each others' bodies while their desire escalated.

She then brushed her dark brown hair to the side. Letting him know what she wanted by coaxing his 

face toward her neck with her hand in his soiled hair. He, at first, nipped her skin gently with his teeth, 

before placing his lips on her hot neck and mouthing it, sensually. After a while, he caressed her ear 

with his lips and whispered to her: “God, you smell good.”

She pursed her lips and shoved him, so that he was now the one pinned against the wall. He raised his 

chin, and bit his bottom lip, impressed with her aggressiveness. She leaned toward one of his ears, 

nibbling and licking. He had his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. 

She then glided her mouth along the length of his sweaty neck, sucking and nibbling. He started 

panting even louder and collapsed further against the wall. She lifted her head to look at him. His 

hairline was soiled with fresh sweat, while a pool of it built atop his upper lip.

She looked down at his collarbones and chest glistening with perspiration under his damp shirt. She 

anxiously reached to tug at his collar. He watched her face as she slowly started unfastening the rest of 

the buttons. Once unbuttoned, she grazed her hungry hands all over his chest. He started leaning 

forward to kiss her neck, but she immediately shoved him. She made him lean against the wall and 

watch her as she grabbed a hold of his belt and started unbuckling it.

In contrast to the stifling atmosphere, they both felt chills course through their veins in great 

anticipation.

 

~:~

He unlocked the Elliot manor front door, and opened it to a surprise house guest.

Susan was standing in the entry hall with a mug in hand. “Wow, you look terrible.” She said, looking 

him over. Noticing his soiled, wrinkled clothing and unruly hair.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah. I didn't sleep much last night.” He closed the door behind 

him. 

“You never came home last night. Where were you?”

He took a long pause, staring at the closed door. “Uh... just... you know,” he turned around, “doing 

business as usual.” He set his keys, wallet and stack of papers on the entry hall table nearby.

She raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

He didn't look at her. “I got into a little pickle last night, that's all. It was nothing.”

“What happened?”

He ignored her question as he turned to look at her. “Susan...what are you doing here anyway? How'd 

you get in? And why exactly were you at my house last night?” He came up to her.

“I have certain skill assets which allow-

He grabbed her mug out of her hand before she even realized what he was doing and took a sip of 

coffee.

“Hey! I was drinking that.” 

“And?... Since you've apparently made yourself at home at my house, I can very well-”

“I came here because I wanted to talk to you...” she paused, “about Estella.”

He looked down. “Oh... yeah. Um, Estella's death has...” he sighed, “I guess it's affected me more than 

I realized.”

She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I'm so sorry. But, we will find whoever did this. I 

promise you.” 

He nodded, “right.” He handed the mug back.

She smiled slightly. “Well, I'm at least glad you're not mad at me anymore.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Last time I was at your house, you asked me to leave, you know.”

“Oh... well...” he looked a little annoyed. “With Estella gone now, it doesn't really matter that she 

knew who I was anymore.”

Susan held her mouth open in astonishment. “You do realize that that makes you sound-” 

He flinched, “what? Guilty?”

“Yes.”

“I don't care.”

“Why? Because you 'are' guilty?”

He stared at her blankly.

“Well, if you are or aren't... either way, Estella's killer will be brought to justice. It's the least I can do 

for her.” She turned around and headed to the couch to sit down. “Tommy? You either come over here 

and tell me your alibi or I have the police take you in for questioning. Which do you prefer?”

He followed her. “This seems highly unprofessional for you to question me in my own home.”

“I'm a detective, Tommy. I work best doing my work however I want. Stop trying to stall me by-”

“Fine!” He cut her off, plopping down beside her, and crossing his arms. “So, what am I? The 

mourning relation of Estella?”

“Sort of, but most likely the suspect for her murder.”

“Mm hmm, figures. Let's just get get one thing straight... I'm not in mourning.”

She frowned. “Um, okay. Can you sound anymore heartless?” She shook her head. “Alright.” She 

retrieved her laptop from her bag, setting it on the table. She turned toward him, “Tommy?”

He avoided her gaze in annoyance. 

She pulled up her documents. “If you're not guilty, then there's no reason to be hostile. You just tell the 

truth and everything will be alright.”

He quickly looked at her. “What if I don't want to tell the truth?”

She laughed at his childish behavior. “Well, the only logical reason of why you would want to do 

that, is if you killed her.”

“I'm 'not' going back to jail, Susan.”

“Of course not.” She smirked. “Now tell me everything now or you're just delaying the inevitable 

when they find evidence against you.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Now... Estella Lynn was found on the side of the road, just miles from here... with bruises all around 

her neck. The coroner has declared that she died from a thick rope around her neck in strangulation.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean she didn't get hit by a car or something while staggering from a 

bar?”

She frowned. “No... she didn't.” She tried to control her anger at his cold-heartedness as she 

continued. “Now... where were you and what were you doing at the time of her murder... Wednesday, 

night?” 

He looked up and to the side, trying to remember. “Let's see... I was obviously and probably, asleep 

in bed.”

She stared at him dubiously.

He met her gaze, then shifted his eyes. “Or, I was...”

She shook her head.

“Wait, I believe, Wednesday night, I had woken up in the middle of the night to get a glass of 

water...” he eyed her, “if that means anything.” 

She reluctantly typed his statement into the computer. “You're good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“But, I've got to admit, Estella's murder is awfully convenient for you.”

“Yes. And that gives me plenty of motive to kill her, right?”

“Yeah, it does actually.” She grabbed his forearm, making him turn to face her. “I hate to say this, 

Tommy... but, I think at the present, you're our number one suspect. I mean, with your substantial 

criminal record already, it's not looking very good for you.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “Great. Maybe I should just turn myself in now.”

Her eyebrows raised, optimistically.

He glared at her. “You must really think I'm stupid. I would never do that. No matter what the pigs 

have against me. I mean, hey, perhaps they'll arrest Wayne, mistaking him for me.” He smirked. 

“Maybe this was all orchestrated from above. All working in my favor.”

She shook her head. “Sorry. Not going to work. Haven't you ever heard of DNA testing?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I think we're done here.” She stood up. “I say this to all my suspects, and you're no exception.”

He turned up his eyes to look at her.

“Don't leave town. If you do, we'll find you.”

He simulated a shiver. “Brrrrrr. I'm scared.”


	10. Unwanted Visitors Come When They're The Most Unwanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unwanted visitors always seem to come over at the wrong time and they're never announced.  
> Tommy wants Susan to drop Estella's murder case. He doesn't give her much of a reason other than, that she knows him. Is his guilt or his non-guilt speaking for itself?

Tommy leaned against the door frame, “Louise.” It wasn't a question, but more of an 

acknowledgment. 

The woman looked at him and sighed his 'name' in return, “Bruce.”

“Please, come in.”

She stepped inside the mansion, all the while, staring at him admirably. He shut the door behind him 

and turned toward her. She looked up at him calmly as the two stared at each other for a moment in 

silence. She then stepped forward and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms, crisscrossed, on her 

back. Enjoying the warmth of her pressed against him.

She spoke into his shoulder, “I have bad news.” She paused, “my husband is back in town.”

He slightly released his grip to look at her. “And?”

“I'm nervous. What if he finds out... you know, about what we've done?”

“We didn't do anything wrong, Louise. Besides, he's the one who has mistresses when he's away.”

“I know, but-”

“But what? If he tries anything, I'll take care of him.”

“What do you mean... you'll take care of him?”

“Just... don't worry. Alright?”

She squeezed him tighter in a craving of his comfort, “alright.”

After a fleeting moment, they broke from the embrace. 

“Let's go into the parlor.” He said as she followed him into the room.

When they took their seats on the couch together, Louise grabbed onto his bicep and scooted closer to 

him. 

He glanced down at her hands around his arm as he thought to himself. 'If only her hands weren't 

strangling my arm right now...'

On the coffee table there were the stack of papers that they had stolen from the FBI department 

building.

“Are these those papers we took?” She asked.

He picked up a piece and scanned over it. “Yes.”

“Bruce, can you tell me what's going on with you and Tommy?”

He furrowed his brows as he looked at her. “Nothing.”

“But, there has to be something. Why else would you go to such lengths to get papers on him from the 

police. And then there's your questioning me about it that one time, as well.”

He didn't answer, so she reached for one of the papers, but he quickly grabbed her by the wrist. He 

snatched the paper out of her hand, and then looked at her solemnly.

She frowned. “Why won't you let me take a look at it?”

“Because it's not any of your business.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you made it my business when you asked me to break into the FBI with you.” She 

snatched the paper out of his grip. She turned her body away from him as she tried reading it quickly.

“Louise, seriously.” 

“Relax.” 

“No.” He groaned as he tried grabbing it from her.

She kept moving her arm further away from him while holding the paper. She squinted her eyes, 

“Tommy Elliot was convicted of murder and multiple other felonies?”

He leaned forward, pressing against her back as his lips ghosted across her ear as he tried reaching his 

arm around her. She was caught off guard when the pressure on her back and the tickling of her ear 

made her body involuntarily relax. She visibly shivered and her grip loosened on the paper. He reached 

his arm to snatch it from her before she could comprehend what he was doing.

“Hey! She turned to peer over her shoulder, and found his face just inches from hers. She said more 

softly as her eyes glided over his complexion, “that was cheating.”

“I'm sorry.” He looked down at her lips. 

She gulped, then leaned closer to kiss him gently. 

He pulled away slowly. “I didn't realize I had such an affect on you.” He then slid his lips across her 

cheek, and jawline, then down her neck.

“Oh.” She sighed, “you really do.” She tangled a hand through his dark hair, her eyes 

closed as overwhelming chills ran through her body from the quick, ecstatic and sensual escalation

After a moment, she collapsed against the couch, revealing her ache for him. He indulged her as he 

got on top of her. Senses were heightened and her hands trembled in anticipation as they rubbed all 

over his back. He continued mouthing her neck as she yearned to reach for his belt. 

 

Suddenly, a knock sounded on the front door. She let out an anguished sigh in disappointment as she 

released her grip on him. He deeply groaned as he lifted his body up to get to his feet.

“Can't- can't you leave it?” She sounded winded, “just pretend no one's... home?”

He stopped and looked at her. She was staring at him with great desire. 

'Wow, she looks... really hungry.' He thought to himself as he sat back down on the couch. He let her 

wrap her legs around his hips and sit on his lap. She bit her bottom lip and felt for his belt, unbuckling 

it.

An angrier knock sounded on the door, more impatiently this time. He groaned as he started feeling 

more irritated while thinking, 'Susan? Could it be Susan? She seems to regularly stop by, 

unannounced.' 

Louise tried undoing his pants. 

He closed his eyes, “Louise... I'm just not feeling it.”

She then decided to unbutton the first few buttons of her own red shirt, coaxing his face with her 

hand to her neck. 

He stared at her neck. 'Just don't think about Susan.' He sighed and mumbled, “screw 'er.” He 

went in on her neck and then chest. The knock sounded again. “She's...” he gasped, “persistent... isn't 

she?” 

She sighed, “who?”

“Susan Garfield.” He let out a low groan as he pulled away. “God, I don't wanna be thinking about 

her right now...” He shook his head, “I'm gonna go tell her off.” Louise got off of him and he got to his 

feet.

“How do you know it's her?”

“Trust me, it's her.” He looked down to buckle his unfastened pants and belt. She reluctantly let him 

leave the parlor and go check out their visitor.

 

He went into the corridor, and looked through the peephole. Sure enough, Susan was there alright. He 

clenched his teeth, and backed against the door. He cursed in his head briefly before opening the door.

He noticed how surprised she appeared as he opened the door partway. “What the hell, Susan?”

She frowned. “'Hell' to you, too, Tommy.” She tried looking past him, and inside.

He noticed and blocked the opening as he rolled his eyes.

“I knew you were home. I saw your car. What took you so long to answer?”

“That's none of your business. Why can't you just leave me alone for one day of your life?”

She looked a little insulted. “Well, I'm sorry, 'Mr. charming'. I didn't realize I was such a bother.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Is there something you wanted, Susan?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “As a matter of fact, there is. I wanted to talk to you... to discuss your 

case.”

“My case? What? Are you a district attorney, too?”

“No. I just- can't I come in?”

He sighed as he looked down and shook his head. “Actually, I have company right now, Susan.”

“Oh. Really?” She looked disappointed. “That's who that car, outside, belongs to, I'm guessing?”

He stood up straighter, and raised his chin. “Yes.”

Louise's voice came from the parlor. “Bruce? Are you coming?”

Susan frowned. “Who's that?”

“It's no one.”

While his guard was down, she quickly pushed her way through the door.

“Gah, Susan. What are you doing?”

She started heading for the parlor, “I wanna introduce myself to your lady friend.” 

He quickly followed after her.

“Hello.” She stood in front of the coffee table.

Louise was sitting up straight now, and holding a pillow on her lap. “Oh, hello. Susan Garfield, 

correct?” 

“Yes. And you're Louise Landerfall.” She glanced at Tommy.

Louise was showing some cleavage. “Oh, um,” she started buttoning her shirt. “Excuse my 

immodesty.”

Susan immediately looked at Tommy with her mouth open.

He chuckled nervously. “What?”

“I didn't say anything.”

“No. But I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong.”

She smirked at him. “So, what 'were' you guys doing?” She looked at the woman and then back at 

Tommy, noting their age difference. “Heh. Is she babysitting you or something?”

He chuckled and bit his bottom lip as he looked at Louise. “Something like that.”

She gulped as she met his eye contact with an intense stare.

Susan looked at Louise, and then at Tommy to see why she was staring at him like that. He started 

staring at her in return. He broke eye contact and glanced at Susan, noticing how suddenly quiet things 

had become. “Um-”

“Well...” Susan interrupted him. “Can we talk alone for a moment, in... I don't know, your second 

parlor or something?”

He looked at her blankly. “How 'bout my bedroom?”

She gasped, then chuckled softly. “That's very suggestive, Mr. Wayne.”

“I'm kidding.” He smirked.

Susan couldn't help but let the thoughts of her not yet seeing his bedroom before come to mind. She 

tried shaking herself from the fantasy of wondering what it looked like.

Louise stood up from the couch. “You know what... I guess I better be going, Bruce.” She looked at 

the time on the grandfather clock. “Someone must be waiting for me to come home by now.”

He let out a disappointed sigh as he grabbed her by the elbow. “Louise-”

“Really, I better be off.” She turned to gaze at him with a small smile. “Call me.” 

“Sure.” 

“I'll let myself out.” She called out as she went to the front door.

As soon as the woman was out of the mansion, Susan stated plainly, “So, how long have you two 

been fooling around?”

“Susan?” He sounded like he was in disgust of her suggestion.

“Oh, come on, Tommy. It's obvious. 

“Pfft. How so?”

“I'm not so dumb that I can't recognize 'eye-banging' when I see it.”

“Heh.” He looked away from her and ran a hand through his hair.

“So, why her? Are you trying to get her on your good side, so she doesn't reveal anymore dirt on 

you?”

“You like to just assume I always have an ulterior motive, don't you?”

“Well, everyone has their agendas.”

“Susan,” he stared at her as he grabbed her by the arm. 

She met his gaze, questioningly.

“Is there anything I can do to make you drop Estella's case?”

“It's not going to get you off the hook. It doesn't matter if I do it, or some other detective. In the end, 

there will be someone who solves this murder case and brings the guilty party to justice.”

He looked down, solemnly and let go of her arm.

“Tommy, I wish you'd tell me the truth... Did you kill her?”

He looked at her quickly. “No.”

She pursed her lips. “I hope to God you're telling me the truth. I don't want you to be guilty. I really 

don't.”

“Why?” He looked at her directly..

She gulped at his eye contact, and suddenly felt speechless. “I don't know. I just... don't.”

“Do you... care for me, Susan?”

She shook her head. “What? No. Not in the way you're probably thinking.” She looked away from 

him.

He looked to the side. “Susan?”

“What?” She looked at him.

He met her gaze. “If there is anything... anything that I can do to make you drop this case, I'll do it.”

“Why don't you want me to be on this case so bad?”

“Because... you... know me.”

“So?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.” He put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes as if he 

was searching for something. “Think about it.” 

“About what?”

He turned away from her and headed to sit down on the couch. “Dropping the case.”

She sighed. “Fine. I'll take it into consideration.”

“Thanks.”

“I'll see you later.” She headed for door.

 

~:~

An aggressive knock pounded on the Elliot manor door. Tommy went to the door, and answered it. 

An angry looking, middle-aged man stood outside the door. “Bruce Wayne?”

Tommy frowned, “yes?”

“I have business with you, gigolo.”

“Excuse me?”

The dark complected man shook his head. “I can't believe that skank. She not only cheats on me, but 

she does it with some lowlife player.”

Tommy glared at him.

“Oh, yeah. I know 'bout your reputation. You little playboy punk!”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. 

“You think... you think that I'm going to let some younger man take my wife away from me. I don't 

think so.” The man grabbed him by his collar roughly, yanking him closer as he gritted his teeth in 

anger.

“Don't touch me, George.” Tommy spat, raising an eyebrow as he pushed the man away from him.

Mr. Landerfall seemed even more upset now as his eyes widened and he went after him again. 

“Grrrrr!” He pushed Tommy against the wall.

Tommy kneed the man in the groin.

“Ahh!” He hunched over in pain and Tommy pushed him to the ground. He tried to get back up but 

Tommy kicked the man back down mercilessly with his leather padded foot. 

Tommy smirked. “To be honest, I don't really care what you do behind your wife's back...” He circled 

around the man as he watched him, frowning. “I just don't like you.” He bent down and got on top of 

the man, then started punching him in the face.

“Rahhhh!” George struggled as cuts, then blood formed on his face from the rough blows. He wasn't 

as strong as the younger man, making it impossible for him to get up while being strongly held down.

After a moment, Tommy finally stopped. “Have you got the message yet?” He spat.

The man sputtered with blood coming out of his mouth. “Yes.”

“Now, I don't ever want to see you here again.”

“You won't. I- ahem... p-promise.”

“Hmph.” Tommy got to his feet, and looked down to straighten his shirt.

The man got up off the floor and looked at his attacker, angrily. “But I'm not leaving just yet... First, 

admit to me that you screwed my wife.”

Tommy turned to look at him solemnly.

“Well?! Say something, you womanizer!”

“I admit to nothing.” He told him calmly.

“Oh, I'll make you admit to something when I'm done with you. I'll make you beg for mercy as I 

desex you, you bastard!”

Tommy curled his upper lip. “Heh. You're kidding.”

“Does it look like I'm kidding?” The man pulled out a knife from his back pocket as his eyes widened 

in an intense stare.

Tommy sighed loudly, shaking his head. “George, George, George. I hate to be that annoying guy 

who states the obvious, but...” He bent down to feel under his pant leg.

The man looked at him, puzzled.

“But, you brought a knife to a gun fight.” He quickly drew his gun from his holster hiding on his calf. 

He pointed it to the man with a blank stare.

George put his hands in the air. “Whoa, whoa. I didn't mean this to turn into a gunfight.” 

“Just a knife fight, right? Too late.”

The man gulped, and before he could say anything else... three shots rang out in the echoing halls of 

Elliot manor.


	11. All Up In My Business As Usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan stops by AGAIN to Elliot manor. Tommy wonders what is really drawing her to him constantly, so he finally confronts her about it.
> 
> We all know Tommy’s the epitome of not wanting to be held down, so a subjectively clingy, stalker girl would be a huge turn off for him right? ;-)
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> “Well, what else could it be? You clearly don’t want to be on my side, so
> 
> therefore, we’re not friends.”

He opened the door, looking guilty.

“Hey.” Susan tried looking past him. “Is... everything okay in there?”

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow.

She cocked her head. “Tommy?” She glanced at his dirt smudged shirt and pants. “What's going on? 

And what's that smell?”

He sighed. “You really want to know?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Fine. See for yourself.” He opened the door, revealing a dead man's body 

lying in the corridor just a few feet away.

She gasped, shaking her head. “No, no, no. I am not helping you cover up a murder.”

“I'm not asking you to. And for the record, it was self-defense. He threatened to cut me up, Susan.”

She frowned and sighed, joining him in the corridor to get a closer look.

“Please, just let me take care of this.”

She stepped out of the way, and let him pass.

 

“Oh, my gosh. Is that-?” She looked at where the three bullets had shot the man. One in his neck, 

showing a huge loss of drained blood. One in his collarbone, and one in his chest. Blood soiled the 

man's limp torso, staining his shirt red. She felt queasy looking at all the blood and seeing how much 

damage a few bullets could do at such a close range.

Tommy looked at her, surprised at seeing the horrified expression on her face. “What?”

“Huh?”

“Susan, are you afraid of a little bit of blood?”

“A little bit of blood? More like 'gallons' of it. And of course it wouldn't bother you, you're a 

surgeon. You're used to seeing people's insides, blood, gore and all.” She shivered at the thought.

“Perhaps you're right.” He bent down toward the body, and sniffed. “God, blood really does stink 

when there's a lot of it.”

She sighed and lost her balance.

“Susan?” He got up quickly and caught her before she fell to the ground. He held her up by her 

armpits.

“N-no. I'm okay.” She shook herself out of her dizzy spell and stood up straight. “What- what are you 

going to do with the body?”

“I just finished digging a six feet deep, and six feet long hole in the backyard.”

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes.” He wiped a smear of sweat off his forehead. He bent down and rolled the man's body up in the 

rug that the victim was lying on. 

She watched him, nervously. “Do you need help carrying him?”

“No.” He dragged the wadded up rug outside, and she followed him.

He threw the body down into the grave site, bloodied rug and all. He then grabbed a shovel that was 

standing up in the ground nearby and started shoveling dirt into the hole.

~:~

He went into the kitchen as she followed behind. “You can't stay away. Can you?”

“I can. I just felt like-”

“Being all up in my business as usual.” He went to the sink, his hands soaked in dirt and blood. He 

glanced at her and nodded toward the faucet handle.

“Oh. Sure.” She turned it on for him.

He moved his hands over the running water to rinse off the blood, and then he lathered them up in a 

generous amount of dish soap.

“You're getting blood all over the sink.”

He growled in irritation. “I know. I'm planning on using bleach.” He glanced at her. “I'm a surgeon. 

I'd be hardly qualified to be a doctor if I didn't know how to properly sterilize after being splattered 

with bodily fluids on a daily basis.”

She shivered at the image now residing in her head.

He grabbed a hand towel and started drying his hands as he turned around to look at her. “Susan, may 

I be frank, here?”

“Sure.”

“Is there something you want from me?”

She frowned. “No.”

He stared at her. “Are you here because you're seeking something sexual from me?”

“Wait, what?” She gulped, “T-Tommy-” She scrambled for words as a pit formed in her stomach and 

her heart stuttered.

He bent down to pick up a gallon of bleach from inside a cupboard, and then set it on the counter.

“Why- why would you say that?”

He turned to face her. “Well, what else could it be? You clearly don't want to be on my side, so 

therefore, we're not friends.” He then poured the bleach in and around the inside of the sink.

The overwhelming fumes shook her out of any nervousness she had and caught her breath in her 

throat as her eyes started to slightly burn. A coughing spell fell upon her as she tried to breathe.

He didn't seem to be affected by the fumes as he glanced at her, screwing the lid back on the jug. 

“Sorry. I should've warned you. It's pretty strong.”

“That's okay.” She grabbed him by his hands as he set the jug down.

He stopped, watching her seriously.

She looked down at his clean hands, and rubbed them as she looked up at him. “Tommy... you just 

murdered someone tonight. Your hands may appear clean now. But, you still have blood on them.”

He frowned, and yanked his hands out of hers. “For the love of god, Susan. I told you what 

happened.” He went to the cupboard, got a glass down and then filled it up with water from the fridge.

He leaned against the stove and gulped down half of the glass of water.

“What about Mrs. Landerfall? What are you going to tell her? That you killed her husband so that you 

two could be together?”

He looked at her quickly and chuckled mockingly. “It wasn't so that we could be together. I told you, 

he came at me with a knife.” He shook his head as he stood up straight. “Besides, she didn't love her 

husband anyway.”

“Lots of people have dysfunctional marriages, but those same people, don't go killing their partners 

because of it.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I guess I'll never get you to understand.” He shrugged. “I'm wasting 

my breath here.” He left the kitchen, and she followed after him. They both silently went into the parlor 

and sat down on the couch together. 

He sighed, spreading his knees and relaxing against the couch cushion. “God, I'm really tempted to 

drink right now.”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him. “Now, that doesn't sound like you.”

“I know. I surprise myself.”

“I could get you something-”

“No.” He immediately shook his head and sat up straight. “I'm fine. You know, I 

think I'm just going to go take a shower.”

“Oh, okay. I don't blame you. You're a mess.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He stood to his feet and glanced at her one more time before 

leaving the parlor.

~:~

The steam from the shower was soothing to his tense, sore muscles. And the sound of the water 

pouring from the shower head was tranquilizing. After about ten minutes, he got out of the shower and got 

his underwear and lounge pants on. 

He came out of his master bathroom with his towel around his neck. His wavy hair was unruly and 

damp. He paused in surprise as he saw Susan standing by and facing the huge window in his bedroom, 

looking out at the starry night. “Susan?”

“I always wondered what your bedroom looked like.” She turned around and looked at him. 

“Maybe... I 'was' seeking something from you in some twisted sort of way. I just... didn't realize it... until 

maybe now.”

He frowned and walked forward. “Are you drunk?”

“What? No. I'm hurt that you would think that.” She glanced down at his shirtless torso, his muscles 

shapely and masculine. His hip bones peaking from atop his lowly worn pants. She gulped and 

looked back up at his face, trying to keep her thoughts from delving too far and never to return.

He noticed her eyes were roaming around his body as he stared at her. “You're serious.”

“Mm, hm.” Her voice cracked uneasily as she stared at his bare chest.

“Well, this is a very interesting proposition, Susan.” He removed his towel from around his neck and 

set it on a chair nearby as he went to stand in front of her.

She gulped, feeling conscious of her heart racing in anticipation. 

He looked down at her pulsing carotid artery protruding from her neck. He placed his strong hand around 

the back of her neck and then pulled the hair at the base of her skull. They met each other with intense eye 

contact for a few seconds. He then broke it, leaned forward, and proceeded to slowly start mouthing her hot neck.

She gripped onto his bicep, her finger nails digging into his skin as tingling chills ran up her spine. 

She let out a vocal sigh. 

After a moment, he stopped and leaned back, turning his face away from her. “Susan, I'm not doing 

this.”

“What? No.” She sounded desperate. “You're not rejecting me again.” 

He quickly looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”

“And why not?!” She started feeling inpatient. “My gosh, Tommy. We're alone in this big mansion. 

No one's here to stop us. You're a man, and I'm a woman. Which means, we both-” 

He stared at her in silence for a moment, then turned around. “I'm tired. I'll see you later.”

“No. I'm not leaving this time.” She shook her head. “You just enjoy seeing me squirm with 

frustration, don't you?”

He turned around to face her, a new fire burning in his eyes. He clenched his jaw and backed her into 

a corner of the room as he gripped onto her arms. “No. In all honesty... I want you so bad." 

She gasped as her cheeks flushed. She gulped, parted her lips and raised her chin as she stared at him. 

“Then, what's stopping you?” She placed a hand on his muscular chest, and bent toward him. Her lips 

grazing his ear as she whispered, “Please, I want to feel you.” 

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily with sexual tension as his thoughts entertained her 

suggestion, and he realized he was now extremely turned on.

She pressed her body against him. She licked his neck, and then nibbled her teeth on his skin. She 

reached to grab his butt, feeling him suddenly harden against her through the thin fabric of his pants. 

She knew right away and felt a serene sense of accomplishment. She combed a hand through his hair 

and whispered in his ear. “Gosh, you wreak with so much frustration. 

He let out a low growl filled with tension and placed a hand in the middle of her back. He reached to pull 

her blonde hair roughly which made her sigh from the sensation.

He cocked his head and opened his mouth to intensely devour hers. His other hand grazed down her waist,

hip and down her thigh. He then went back up to feel her butt and press her pelvis against his. He moved his lips 

from her mouth to her ear and whispered, "the bed." 


	12. The Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the police on the brink of charging Tommy with murder again, he knows that this time, he'll have life in prison. No parole ever. What will he have to do to go on living?

“Whoa, Bruce. Did you hear the word on the street that the police are investigating you?” Jason, in 

his normal clothes, leaned against the door frame in the Wayne manor parlor.

“What?” Bruce immediately frowned.

“Yep. Something about a guy named George Landerfall found out his wife was cheating on him with 

a subjectively handsome, billionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne. Mr. Landerfall hasn't been seen since. 

Apparently, his wife and his wife's lover are both under suspicion for his disappearance.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Jason. You know better than to believe something so 

ridiculous of a scandal as that to be true.”

“I'm not saying I believe it, Bruce. I'm just letting you know what I've heard on the street.”

Bruce shook his head. “Tommy.”

The young man's eyebrows furrowed. “You think it was him?”

“Who else? There's me, and then there's someone who looks like me. Who else could it be? It simply 

speaks for itself.”

“Master Bruce, your spot of tea.” The butler came in with a tea tray, holding a tea cup, a pot of tea and 

a few English tea cookies, Alfred's specialty.

“Yes, Alfred.”

He set it down on the coffee table in front of Bruce. “Oh, Master Todd, would you like some tea 

refreshment as well?”

“No, thanks, Alfred. I'm not staying.”

“Oh, alright then. But, know that we would enjoy your company anytime you feel like coming for a 

visit. We miss having you around. Don't we, sir?”

Bruce glanced at Alfred and then at Jason. “Of course we do, Jason. You're always welcome, so long 

as you don't bring lethal weapons into my manor.”

“Heh, thanks for the mushy talk, Bruce, but I better be going.” He walked by the tea tray to snatch a 

tea cookie and took a big crunching bite before leaving the room.

~:~

Susan stood at the Elliot manor kitchen counter with a glass of water in hand and the “morning after 

pill” in the other. She paused and contemplated before taking it.

“Susan?”

She gasped from hearing Tommy's voice come from out of the blue. She turned around to face him. 

He stared at her solemnly for a moment and then glanced at her hand, holding the pill. 

“Contraception...” he puffed out a whiff of air and nodded, “good thinking.” He went to get a glass 

down from the cupboard next to her. 

“Is it?”

“Yes.” He turned to face her, frowning. “Can you imagine if a little... 'something' was spawned from 

last night? It's better to be safe.”

She gulped, feeling conflicted in her emotions as she nodded. “We should've been safe last night.”

He went to the fridge and filled up his glass. “Yeah, well, we weren't.” He joined her at the counter 

and raised his eyebrows. “The heat of the moment and all.”

A chill ran up her spine as a flashback of his hefty body on top of her came to mind. She nodded and 

glanced away from him. “Tommy?”

“Hmm?” He took a sip of water.

“Let's say...” she looked at him seriously. “If I were to become pregnant... what would you do?”

He chuckled. “No. That's not gonna happen. That's why you're taking care of it.... right?”

“I know, I know. I am. I was just wondering... 'if'.”

He looked away from her and stood up straight, shaking his head. “Please, just take the goddamn pill, 

Susan.” With that, he left the kitchen.

She looked at the pill inside her hand. “He's right.” She lifted her hand, releasing the pill into her mouth 

and gulping down the water. “No worries. We'll just forget about this.” She set down her glass and went into 

the parlor to find Tommy on the phone.

“What? Why on earth would you tell him? Oh my go-” he glanced at Susan with big eyes. “Just come 

over, and we can talk about this, alright?... Okay, bye.”

Susan frowned as she took a seat beside him. “That was Louise?”

“Yes. Just like I suspected, she's the reason why George came here yesterday. She ended up spilling 

any involvement I had with her, to him. Let's just say, I think she knows he's not coming home for 

dinner anytime soon.”

“What does this mean, then?”

He looked at her directly. “I'm going to tell Louise that I'm never going to see her again.” 

“Oh. Okay.” She felt a wave of relief from hearing those words.

“Susan, I'm tired of not being able to trust anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Louise... you.”

“Tommy,” she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can trust me.”

He stared at her for a moment and then stood up to distance himself. “N-no. I can't. You still think I 

killed Estella. And god knows if you're going to go to the police about George.”

“If I went to the police about George, I would tell them the truth about what I know. And that's that it 

was self-defense.” 

“You don't understand. It doesn't matter. With my history of felonies, they'd lock me up for life!”

Her eyes widened as she kept them fixed on him.

He walked to stand by the fireplace mantle as he shook his head. “And would you really tell the whole 

truth, Susan? Remember, you watched me bury a man in my backyard last night. Don't you think you 

would want to morph the truth a little, so that it wouldn't involve you?”

She frowned. “No. I wouldn't, Tommy. I would tell them the truth and nothing but.” She stood up 

from the couch to join him in front of the mantle. “Tommy, look at me.” Tears started forming in her 

eyes. “Just like you once said, despite my good conscience... I'm drawn to you. And for a reason... it's 

because... I love you.”

His eyes turned into a look she'd never seen on him before... a look of utter confusion. “Susan, you 

don't know what you're saying.”

“But, I do.” Her lips parted as she reached to tangle a hand through his dark hair and cradle his jaw 

with the other. She pulled him toward her, and kissed him deeply. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist and they started to mouth each other in sloppy kiss. He 

groaned as he pulled away, released her and looked down. 

She stared at him confusedly, her chest moving up and down in sync with her heavy breathing.

“I never want to see you again.”

Her heart sunk, forming a huge pit in her stomach as she shook with emotion. “What? No! Why?!”

He looked at her sternly. “Because, it's over! I'm leaving and never coming back to Gotham.”

“You can't be serious.”

“I'm dead serious, Susan. I have no other choice.”

“Then, I'm coming with you.”

“What? No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!” She stared at him, her eyes wide. “Please, Tommy.” She put a hand on his shoulder. She 

squeezed it hard, trying to relieve herself from her own emotional distress.

He glanced down at her hand, reaching to cover it with his own as he looked at her silently. 

“I'll let you talk to Louise alone when she gets here. I'm going go to my apartment and pack up my 

things.”

“Susan, are you sure about this?”

“I'm more sure about this than I am about anything in my life.” She gazed at him, admiring his 

handsome complexion as she reached to touch his face with her hand. “I'll see you soon.” She leaned 

forward, giving him one last kiss before leaving the manor.

 

~:~

“The police have finally gotten a witness to come forward and testify about what they saw on the night 

of Estella Lynn's murder.”

“Really? Yes!" Jason hammered his fist in the air. "Who did they identify him as? Wait, don't tell me. Elliot, right?”

“Actually... no. It so happens to be this man.” Bruce pulled out a photo of a middle aged, rough 

looking man. “John Smith. He's an elusive serial killer who presumably kills for no reason at all... that 

the police know of.”

“Just for the fun of it, right? Oh, man, those are the worst.” He snatched the photo from Bruce's hand. 

“I'm soooo gonna get this creep.”

“Jason, no. It's not enough to charge him yet.”

“It's not enough?! It's enough for me.”

“Jason, no!”

He spun around to look at the man. “Bruce, let me get this guy, damn it! He's already a wanted serial 

killer. We don't need more evidence against him for just this one girl. He's already convicted enough!”

Bruce pursed his lips. “Fine. But, don't kill him. He deserves better than that.”

Jason glanced back at Bruce and shook his head. “Of course not. Heaven forbid I end a filthy serial 

killer's precious existence, right?” He exited the manor and got on his motorcycle.

 

~:~

After hours of ransacking her apartment and packing up most of her things, Susan finally received a 

text from Tommy. 'Meet me at the abandoned Rosefield park on North St. in a half an hour. Don't reply. 

I'm ditching my phone.' 

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach in anticipation and excitement of what their life on the run 

together was going to be like. She felt like this was the closest she had ever been to Tommy, but she 

still felt that there was still so much to learn. She couldn't wait to find out what was in store for them.

She packed her two bags into her car, got in and drove to Rosefield park. It took her five minutes to 

pack her car and fifteen minutes to drive over, so she was ten minutes early... perfect.

 

She parked her car, got out and looked around the abandoned park. There was debris from branches 

breaking off and landing on the unkempt sidewalks. The green leaves on trees were covered in 

cobwebs. Weeds growing out of the cracks in the pavement and all around the dirt ground. The sun was 

just setting. She gazed into the sunset at the colors of pink, orange and purple. She felt with all her 

heart that this was the right thing to do. She didn't care that this wasn't the life she had planned for 

herself. All that mattered now was that she was going to spend the rest of her life with him. Never 

minding the risks and abnormality of it all.

She waited for five minutes on a bench with her bags. The park was vacant. It was the perfect spot for 

them to meet without being seen. She kept her eyes peeled and her ears alert. She looked for any sign 

of him... his car, his luggage... anything. She waited, and waited. She looked at her watch as she 

realized it was now getting dark out. She had been waiting for an hour. She got out her phone, and 

despite him telling her not to call him, she went ahead and tried. An automated voice came on, saying 

the number couldn't be completed as dialed. She knew, then. He had already disconnected his phone 

and there was no way to get a hold of him or track him. He wasn't going to show up. He never planned 

on showing up.

~:~

“Hey Alfie.” Tommy stood outside the front door of Wayne manor with a satchel hanging across his 

torso.

Alfred's heart almost leaped out of his chest upon hearing Tommy's voice coming out of Bruce's face. 

A flood of horrific memories of being held captive by the man came back to the forefront of his 

consciousness. “What on earth?! How dare you come back here after what you've done, Elliot!”

Tommy looked down, shaking his head. “I promise I'm not here to disrupt your lives again.”

Alfred's grip on the doorknob tightened. “Then, why 'are' you here?”

“I'd like to talk to Bruce, if you'll let me.”

“I'm sure you would, but unfortunately, he's not home at the moment.”

“Alfred?” Bruce came behind him, taking the doorknob from the butler and opening the door all the 

way.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Not home, huh?”

Alfred stuck out his chin and glanced at Bruce. “We have an unwanted visitor, sir. Should I call the 

police on him for crossing private property?”

“That's not necessary, Alfred.” Bruce turned toward their visitor, frowning. “What is it you want, 

Tommy?”

“I'd like to speak with you alone.” He glanced at Alfred with a glare.

“Alfred, it's okay.” Bruce put a hand on the butler's shoulder.

“Hmph. Fine. Come in.” He backed away from the door, and quickly left the corridor to head into the 

kitchen.

“Come in, we can talk in the parlor.” Bruce stepped aside, letting the man inside the manor.

“Thanks, Bruce.” Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and flashed his dark eyebrows.

Bruce tried to control himself from lashing out at the man, and slugging him in the stomach. He 

couldn't believe Tommy had the nerve of pretending to be friendly after all that he did.

 

The two men made their way to the parlor. “Have a seat.” Bruce offered.

Tommy took a seat on the sofa and stared at him. “Aren't you going to sit down?”

“No. I feel better standing, thank you.” He crossed his muscular arms.

Tommy stood up and joined him at the hearth. There were the same old photographs of Bruce and his 

parents. Also, one of him and all three of his surrogate sons. Tommy glanced at all of the pictures. He 

reached inside his satchel and pulled out a small portrait of Bruce. “I've been meaning to give this back 

to you.” He placed it on the mantle in front of him.

Bruce frowned. “You were keeping a portrait of me?”

He chuckled. “It's not what you think. You see, I needed it for reference.”

Bruce clenched his fists in anger as he imagined the man placing the picture in front of himself while 

doing surgery on his own face. “I see.” He clenched his jaw and then sighed as he tried relieving any 

tension.“Tommy, I know you might not believe this... but, I forgive you... for everything.”

The man quickly looked at him. “You're right. I don't believe it.” He shook his head. “I wanted to let 

you know that I'm not planning on ever coming back to Gotham, Bruce.”

“You're not? I'm not surprised.” 

“Let's just say... that there's too much drama in this hellhole that's referred to as a city.”

“Don't you mean too many warrants out for your arrest?”

He caught his eye contact and chuckled. “Tell me honestly. When I leave here... am I going to find 

policemen outside waiting for me?”

He raised his eyebrows. “If you do, it's not going to be because of me. I can't guarantee Alfred didn't 

give them a tip, though.”

Tommy turned around, and started heading for the exit of the parlor. “Keep an eye on Todd for me, 

will you? He has a lot of potential to do very bad things.”

He frowned. “He also has a lot of potential to do good.” 

Tommy glanced behind him, and smirked. “Goodbye, Bruce.”

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

Tommy left Wayne manor, got in his car and drove off alone. Never to return to Gotham.


End file.
